Five by Five
by moirariordan
Summary: Several variations on 'Five Things' prompts, Casey and Derek. Next: more crossovers.
1. Five Kisses

**Five Kisses (Involving Casey and Derek)**

**1. **

He turned, and she was right there. A girl, his age, brown hair tumbling down her back, blue dress and black heels. "Hi." Her voice was cheery, girly.

"Hey."

She looked down at the placard in her hand, then back at the table. She shifted her weight, hitching her purse higher on her shoulder. "Table five, right? I guess this is my seat."

"Guess so."

She sat down delicately, tucking her ankles beneath the chair demurely. She set down her purse, looking around, one line furrowed between her eyebrows. "Um…I'm supposed to be sitting with Nora McDonald, though?"

He tilted his head, pretended to think. "Never heard of her."

"Oh." She bit her lip, a bit of her gloss wearing off. "Well…"

"I'm Derek." He extended his hand and she shook it. Her skin was warm and dry and her nails were painted bright blue.

"So do you know George?"

"You could say that."

She nodded. "I barely know him. I mean – I'm Nora's daughter. Oh sorry, how rude of me – Casey McDonald."

"Casey." He tested the name out, rolling it over his tongue.

"Yeah. She's my mom. The bride, I mean."

"I figured."

"It's so weird, I haven't even met his kids yet. This whole thing's just happening so fast – " She shook her head. "I shouldn't be talking about this."

"No, no, it's fine." He sat forward, intrigued by something he couldn't put a name to. "So you…don't want them to get married?"

She considered the question carefully, and he liked how she tilted her head a bit while she thought. "Not really…? That's a horrible thing to say. I just wish they would take it a bit slower is all." She shook her head a little, straightening her spine. "But she's happy, so I'm happy." He noticed that she scrunched her eyebrows together when she lied.

"Uh huh." He wasn't controlling the conversation for once, instead sitting back and choosing to listen rather than talk. He found it…interesting.

"So where do you go to school?" she asked.

"Thompson," he replied. "I'll be in grade ten in the fall."

"Me too!" she exclaimed, then visibly calmed herself. "I mean, yeah, me too. I'll be transferring after we move in with George. Maybe we'll see each other around."

He caught sight his father dancing with her mother on the other side of the banquet hall and quickly turned his gaze back to Casey. "Uh, yeah. I think we will."

She was staring at the table. She grabbed a fork and started playing with it idly. "Cool."

"Yeah." He saw his dad and Nora start to move off the dance floor and quickly made a decision. "Hey." She looked up. He scooted his chair closer and captured her mouth in a short kiss, hearing her drop the fork with a clatter. He waited long enough for her to respond, then quickly pulled away as George and Nora neared. "Nice to meet you," he said, moving out of her personal space as their newly-wed parents join the table.

"Oh, you've already met!" George said boisterously. "Casey, don't listen to anything he says about me, okay? I'm really a wonderful father."

Casey's eyes widened and she looked over at Derek accusingly, but he was already on his feet. "Yeah, you're spectacular, Dad," he said dryly. "I think I saw Sam here earlier, though, so I'm gonna touch base with him before the food comes."

"All right, Derek," Nora said pleasantly, joining a rapidly reddening Casey.

"You were right though, Nora, she's a very charming girl." He grinned and turned on his heel, heading for the banquet hall doors without another word.

**2. **

"I cannot believe you made out with my _cousin._"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Are we seriously still on that?"

Casey stomped her foot, glaring sourly at him. "Yes! That's…that's gotta be illegal, or something."

"Illegal," Derek repeated flatly. "How's that, exactly?"

"Um, duh?" Casey started tapping her foot, like she always did when she thought he was being stupid. "You and I are related, she and I are related. Therefore, you and her are related."

"Please." Derek scoffed. "Related by marriage. Doesn't count."

"Oh really."

"Really." Derek leaned against the wall. "Hate to break it to you, but you and I? Not family, in real sense of the word. Hence me and Vicky? Not wrong." He smirked. "Well, maybe a little wrong."

Casey sneered at him. "You're sick."

"And you're a prude."

"She's your…stepcousin! Or something. How can you be okay with that?"

Derek paused briefly, giving her a look she couldn't decipher. "I just can."

Casey scoffed derisively. He turned on his heel abruptly and headed down the hallway to his room. Casey followed, biting out words at his back. "What, are you gonna see her again? Have you thought about what Mom and George would say? What Fiona would say?"

"Oh, because Fiona proved herself as such a role model," Derek drawled. He ducked into his room and tried to slam the door in her face, but she caught it with her heel. "Can I help you with something?"

Casey scowled at him. "Leave Vicky alone."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, are you her mother?"

"I'm her cousin!"

"The same cousin who calls her Icky Vicky?" Derek got in her face. "Yesterday you were dumping cake on her and laughing."

"That was an accident!" Casey rebutted. "Like she wasn't doing worse to me – you _saw _how she treated me!"

"So what?"

"So you made out with her anyway!" Casey said furiously. "You knew that she – and you just – "

"What?" Derek bit out.

Casey sputtered momentarily, flustered. "It's wrong," she finally said, firmly. "You're related, end of story."

Derek's jaw tightened. "I thought we'd been over this."

"Step or not, you shouldn't have – "

"That doesn't _matter!_" Derek exploded.

"It does!" Casey yelled back, arms tightly crossed over her chest.

"I only met her a few – "

"That doesn't mean you can just – "

"Would you _shut up?_" Derek grabbed her neck and slanted his mouth over hers, angrily pushing her backwards into his desk.

She pushed him off of her a split second later, panting. "What – "

"Doesn't matter," he said firmly, taking a huge step back. His hands visibly shook as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm down.

"You're an asshole," she spat, and turned and ran out of his room as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Find a new record, Case, that one's broken," he called after her, slamming the door shut and collapsing against it.

**3. **

"_Schlepper_ can _sing_!" Derek punched the air in frustration. "I can't believe it. What a rip off."

Casey walked beside him morosely, kicking a pebble with her foot. "Give it up, Derek. We sucked."

"We did no such thing. Did you see the applause we got? They loved us." Derek pulled his arms behind his head, stretching the muscles in his arms. "Schlepper just tricked them with that whiny, emo song, is all."

"It was a good song. The part where he sang about the bully stealing the girl he had a crush on? Oh, I wanted to _cry_…" she trailed off, seeing him glaring at her. "But yeah, what a dork. God."

He exhaled. "Never mind."

"Why are you upset about winning? You got a band together, everyone loved you. You're still the king of the hill."

"I barely got an actual band together in time. We would've been booed off the stage if you hadn't shown up in time." He threw her a sidelong look, quickly looking away when she caught him.

"What are you trying to say, Derek?" Casey asked slyly, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "Are you trying to _thank_ me?"

"No," he said quickly, scoffing. "I'm not sure I can thank you for something you made me sign a contract for."

"Hey, the nice clause is still in affect. That means you have to do nice, polite things for me. Including thanking me for doing you a favor I didn't have to do."

"Get real."

She frowned, frogging him in the arm. "Be _nice_, De_rek_."

"Okay fine." He heaved a long-suffering sigh, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and throwing himself to his knees, grabbing her waist. "_Thank_ you Casey, for saving my band and my life. How will I _ever_ repay you?"

She rolled her eyes. "How stupid of me to think you would act like an actual human being for once."

He looked up at her from the ground, still hanging on to her waist. "Hey, you're a lot easier to listen to from down here."

She gasped and kicked him, moving out of his reach. "Pig."

He wheezed out a laugh, clutching his stomach and falling backwards. "Ow."

She crossed her arms, regarding him critically. "You know, just when I think you have a conscience, you go and prove me wrong."

"Oh come on, Casey, I was joking." He stretched out on the pavement, staring up at the sky idly. "Pull up some cement, chill out for a while. You can pretend to like me for a few minutes."

"We have to get home," she said, looking around nervously. "We told Mom and George we'd be home before eleven."

"They can wait." He motioned to the sidewalk. "I don't bite."

"We can't just lie down in the middle of the street, Derek, it's the middle of the night!"

"It's also the suburbs, Case, the worst thing we'll run into is a dog with a bad attitude." She huffed, sitting down gingerly next to him. "Come on," he prompted, and she lay backwards, situating herself on the hard cement.

"Happy?"

"Kinda."

She looked upwards, stars emerging from behind the inky backdrop of the stormy sky. "I used to do this with my dad," she found herself saying. "He taught me all the constellations."

"You know all the constellations?"

"Most of them." She pointed at a group of stars to her left. "That's the bear, Ursa Major. Aand…Draco the dragon."

He was quiet for a moment. "What else?"

"Well, that 'M' shaped one is Cassiopeia. She was a queen who claimed that she was more beautiful than the gods." She hazarded a tentative look at Derek, who was silent, looking up at the sky. She went on. "The gods punished her for her vanity by ordering her husband to sacrifice their daughter, Andromeda."

"Heavy punishment."

"Yeah." She smiled, remembering late nights on the roof with her father, listening to his stories of faraway lands. "So the king chained Andromeda to a rock by the sea. But the hero Perseus sailed by and rescued her, killing the sea monster that wanted her." She pointed to the star sequence again. "Cassiopeia still needed to be punished, though, so the gods threw her into the sky upside down, making her look ridiculous for all of eternity."

"Tough break."

"Well, yeah." She leaned her head backwards, tilting her chin upwards. "I always wondered why Andromeda couldn't save herself, though. It's always the prince that saves the princess."

"That's kind of how it's supposed to be."

"It doesn't have to be," she said, bristling. "Sometimes the girl can save the guy. And if she did, then the least he could do would be to _thank_ Andromeda for saving his ass."

He sighed woefully, taking the obvious hint. "Thank you for saving my ass, Andromeda."

"You're welcome." She smiled, appeased.

He sighed, checking his watch. "We better head home."

"Yeah." She watched as he arose, holding out a hand to help her up. Surprised, she studied it for a moment before slowly accepting his help, allowing him to pull her to her feet. The momentum pulled her forward, stumbling into his chest and she stumbled, grabbing at his collar. "Sorry."

"Uh huh." His expression was inscrutable as she jerked her hands back, stumbling back a step.

She laughed nervously. "So, uh, it's getting late, and – mmph!"

She was cut off as he grabbed her waist and jerked her forward, effectively silencing her with a clumsy kiss.

Her first instinct was to pull away, but a spark of heat fluttered down her skin and settled in her stomach, and she instead took a step forward, hands hesitantly coming up to grip at his neck.

As quickly as it started it was over, and Derek was pulling back, smiling sheepishly. "You were saying?"

"Uh…" She took a shaky breath, hands flickering around her face. "We have to get home."

"Great. Race ya." He grinned and started jogging in the direction of their house.

She sputtered, stunned for a second before growling in frustration and taking off after him. "Der – ek!"

"You're slow!"

Breathing heavily, she clopped after him, trying in vain to keep up with his athletic stride. "Yeah, well – you look lame in eyeliner!"

"So do you!" He reached the step of their house first, smiling triumphantly. "I win."

She came up beside him a few seconds later, panting. "Yeah." She narrowed her eyes, glaring at his smug expression. Acting on impulse she straightened up and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him into a second kiss. She pushed him away a second later, smirking at the surprise on his face. "So do I." She breezed past him into the house, smiling as she heard him quickly follow.

**4. **

"I can't believe you're making me do this."

"Hush." Casey studied her script, mouthing the words to herself.

"_Casey_," Derek whined, slouching in his seat. "I don't wanna do this."

"Derek," Casey snapped. "Shut up. I'm trying to concentrate." He leaned in and blew carefully in her ear, smirking as she pulled away, shuddering. "Derek! What is your damage?"

"This," he said, floating the script in front of her face. "Why am I here?"

"You're here because you need to save your English grade," Casey said dangerously. "And you're here with _me_ because for some reason, George convinced me to help you."

"For some reason."

"Derek…"

"Fine, fine. Look at me, reading." He exaggeratedly opened the script to a random page, only to have Casey snatch it away. "Hey!"

"You're auditioning for the part of Mortimer. Which means you have to read from scene eighteen." She flipped his script to the right page and gave it back. "Just through it and make sure you have an idea of what's going on."

"What is this play anyway?" Derek asked, skimming over the words with a frown on his face. "What the hell are they talking about?"

"It's called _Arsenic and Old Lace_," Casey said patiently. "It's a famous play and a movie. Now, read."

He slumped in his seat, keeping his eyes on the page for Casey's sake. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye a few times, huffing when she kept her eyes diligently glued to her script. "Who are you auditioning for?" he prodded, trying to capture her attention.

"Abby Brewster," Casey said primly, eyes not moving from the page. He sighed loudly and she smacked him without looking up. "Read!"

"Fine, fine." He skimmed the scenes he'd been given, frowning grumpily. "This was a movie?"

"Cary Grant played Mortimer," Casey offered.

"Oh, okay. Here I was thinking it'd be a _lame_ movie," Derek said sarcastically.

"It's funny," Casey defended.

"Funny?" Derek rose an incredulous eyebrow. "The main characters are two old ladies."

Casey glared at him. "Just read, Derek."

"Caa-seyyy…"

"Do you want to flunk English?" Casey hissed warningly.

Derek scowled and slumped down into his seat.

"Derek and Casey?" Macy Bristow, the assistant director of the play, stuck her head out, motioning to the two. "We're ready for you."

"Brilliant," Derek said. Casey grabbed his shirtfront and pulled him to his feet.

"Take this seriously," she warned, dragging him after her into the auditorium. "I mean it, Derek. You can do this, you just have to try."

"Okay, okay. Let go of me." He shook her off irritatedly. "I'll try, okay? Jeez."

"Good."

Casey walked out onto the stage, blinking in the brightness of the stage lights. Eyes adjusting, she gradually came to see Mr. Goode, the drama teacher, sitting in a seat in the audience.

"Derek Venturi and Casey McDonald for Abby and Mortimer?" Mr. Goode said, reading from a clipboard.

"Yeah. I mean yes," Casey said, slight nerves creeping up on her. Derek merely rolled his eyes beside her.

"All right. Why don't we take it from scene six? Macy, fill in lines for Martha."

Casey nodded, flipping her script to the appropriate page and turned to Derek. He looked at her blankly and she cleared her throat, eyes moving to his script surreptitiously. He shrugged, and she huffed, smacking his arm. "Scene six, your line, moron!"

"Oh yeah." He looked down at the script in his hand, shuffling the pages until he found the right one. "Okay." He straightened his spine. "Teddy's killed a man…darlings." Casey rolled his eyes at his unenthusiastic delivery.

Macy, who was standing off to the side with a script of her own, jumped in as Martha. "Oh, nonsense!"

Derek, on time this time at least, replied with his line. "But there's a body in the window seat." Casey watched him, seeing the visible moment when he started to take interest in the script. She should've figured it'd be the dead body thing.

"Yes dear, we know," Casey said, in character as Abby.

"You know?" Derek shot back incredulously. Casey quirked a smile, it almost seemed natural.

"Of course," Macy said.

"Yes, but it has nothing to do with Teddy," Casey said, gesturing with her left hand as she held the script in her right.

"But – but – " Casey had to hide a smile. Derek usually got the hang of these things pretty quickly.

"Now, Mortimer," Casey cut 'Mortimer' off, "you just forget about it. Forget you ever saw the gentleman."

"Forget?!" Derek squeaked.

"We never dreamed you'd peek!" Casey called, scandalized.

"Good! Great." Mr. Goode cut them off. "Okay. Derek, you stay as Mortimer. Casey, go as Martha this time. Macy, fill in for Abby."

They ran the scene again, this time with Casey and Macy's parts switched, and Casey had to squash down a pleased smile several times as she saw Derek getting more and more into it. She just _knew _Derek would be good at this, she thought with a satisfied burst of delight. Someone would be eating his words later.

"Okay. Now let's go to…scene three, it's on the last page of the packet. Casey, you read Elaine while Derek sticks with Mortimer."

Casey froze, blushing heavily. "But – " she sputtered. "Mr. Goode, I'm reading for Abby."

"Yeah, you read for Abby. Now I want you as Elaine." Mr. Goode waved off her protest. "Just do it."

Derek, not catching on, flipped to his page. Casey shot a panicked look at Macy, who shrugged and smirked, walking back to her chair at the edge of the stage.

Casey sighed, flipping to the page. She winced, avoiding looking at Derek as she delivered her first line. "Well, that's a fine thing," she started, pausing as she took a deep breath for courage. "We're married one minute, and you're throwing me out of the house the next!"

To his credit, Derek tripped over the realization only slightly before proceeding with his line nearly seamlessly. "I am not throwing you out of the house!" he exclaimed. "I am not, I am not throwing you out of the house. I am not throwing you out of the house," he repeated, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her over to an imaginary door. "Will you get out of here?" He shoved her lightly through the imaginary doorway, smirking.

"Go back!" commanded Mr. Goode. "Go back, go back. Scene twelve. Go."

Derek frowned, stepping back and flipping through his script. Casey bit her lip, flipping her own pages, paling at the scene that was marked with a twelve at the top. "Um, Mr. Goode, I don't think – "

"Go! Read, read!"

She huffed and sighed. "Mortimer, really!"

Derek quirked his mouth slightly. "Yeah, yeah, I know that bromide. Something borrowed, something blue – old, new! Rice and old shoes, carry you over the threshold, Niagara Falls – all the silly tripe I've made fun of for years. Is this what I've – " 

"Stop!" Mr. Goode waved his arms. "Closer. Act it out."

Derek hesitated then, while Casey fidgeted and blushed. "Uh – "

"What loving couple stands so far apart?" The drama teacher smirked. "_Closer_." Casey carefully avoided looking anywhere near Derek's face as he moved in close, his chest brushing her shoulder. "Good. Beginning."

"Mortimer, really!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know that bromide. Something borrowed, something blue – old and new. Rice and old shoes, carrying you over the threshold, Niagara Falls – all the silly tripe I've made fun of for years. Is this what I've come to?" Derek's voice was mocking, the same drawl he'd used to make fun of her for years. "I can't go through with it. I won't marry you and that's that." He smirked, and Casey could feel his gaze on her face.

She plastered a lovesick expression on her face and stared at his chin. "Yes, Mortimer."

"What do you mean, 'yes, Mortimer'?! Aren't you insulted? Aren't you going to…cry?" Casey bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling at Derek's overenthusiastic confusion to go along with the line. He leaned in, staring intently at her as he deliberately tried to make her laugh. "Aren't you going to make…a _scene?"_

She smirked. "No, Mortimer," she said in the same adoring tone, yet she met his eyes, a defiant expression on her face.

"And don't 'no, Mortimer' me either!" Derek exclaimed. "Don't…don't you see, marriage is a superstition, it's a …" he checked the script. "It's old fashioned, and – " he checked the script again, aware of Casey watching him intently. "And, um – " he shot a look at Mr. Goode, then sighed and grabbed Casey's neck, pulling her into a kiss.

"Brilliant!" The teacher's voice had them wrenching apart, Casey stumbling slightly as she jerked backwards. "Callbacks, both of you. Tomorrow night."

He waved his hands, shooing them out of the auditorium. Macy rose from her seat and swept them back out into the hallway, a small smirk on her face. She pushed them out of the stage doors, shoving a pair of scripts in Casey's hands. " Six o'clock. Be on time," the girl said simply, whirling around and entering the auditorium once more without another word.

Casey shifted nervously, staring at Derek's left shoe, the handout crumpling in her hand.

"So…"

She jerked at the sound of her voice, chin tilting upwards slightly. "So…"

"So…is there a sex scene in this thing?"

She flushed, automatically reaching out to slap him. "No."

"Damn." He bumped her shoulder with his, snatching one of the scripts from her hands. "I told you this was a good idea." He smirked and sauntered down the hallway.

Casey's eyes narrowed as she chased after him. "It most certainly was _not_ your idea…"

**5. **

"Casey!"

Casey ignored the voice, striding out of the restaurant, tears blinding her vision. Hearing rapid footsteps behind her, she searched frantically for an escape route.

As if descending from the Heavens, a flash of black caught her eye and she whirled, seeing Derek's ratty old Honda pulling into the parking lot. She made a beeline for the car, opening the passenger seat before it even stopped moving and slipping inside.

"Casey?!"

"Park," she ordered. "Out of sight."

Derek looked baffled, but kept on driving past the parking spot in the front row, instead going for a spot in the back corner, around the side of the building.

Casey stared out of the window sullenly, seeing Max exit the restaurant, rumpled and worried-looking. He looked around a few times, but not seeing Derek's car, threw up in hands in exasperation. She watched him shake his head and stride angrily back inside, letting out a breath of relief once he was finally out of sight.

"Let me guess," Derek's voice drawled, and Casey jumped, momentarily surprised by the break in silence. "He called you fat again."

"He didn't call me fat," Casey protested. "He called me statuesque. And no, not this time."

"Uh huh." Derek raised an eyebrow at her. "So are you going to tell me why you hijacked your way into my car?"

Casey shrugged, finally feeling the shame and embarrassment kick in. "I'm sorry. I just…I couldn't deal with it."

"No big," he said nonchalantly. "What happened?"

Casey pressed her lips together and shook her head. "What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked instead. A mental flash of Lacy Wexler, Derek's latest flame-of-the-weekish, gave her a stab of discomfort.

"Meeting some of the guys from the team," Derek said. "They're planning some thing to Toronto this weekend."

"I'm sorry," Casey said again. "Go ahead and meet them. I'll catch a ride home."

"With who?" Derek asked.

"Emily? I can call her – " Casey reached for her purse, realizing with a gasp that she'd left it inside. "Crap!"

"Your purse is in there, isn't it?" Derek sighed. "How do you manage to make it out of the house every morning, I have no idea."

"I really don't need this," Casey said. "Please, just…no insults, not right now. Please?" She hated how thin and reedy her voice sounded.

"That wasn't necessarily an insult," Derek said quietly. "Look, I'll get your purse, okay? Chill out here."

"No! No, Max is still in there, he'll see you and ask about me and I can't – "

"Okay, okay." He reached out a hand to her shoulder, stilling the frantic flow of words. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I'll figure this out." He squinted out at the parking lot, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"Hush." He flipped it open and dialed quickly, raising it to his ear. "Hey, man, it's Derek. Yeah, I'm here, but I can't come in…something came up. Listen, Casey left her purse in the restaurant, you think you could run it out to me?" He listened for a second. "What's it look like?" he asked.

Casey sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. "It's black leather. Not very big, with metal loops for a strap." She gave a small smile at Derek, overwhelming relief washing over her.

"She says it's black with metal loops. Leather." Derek quirked an eyebrow at Casey. "No, I don't know what designer it is, Sam. Maybe you could ask your boyfriend."

Casey snorted, swiping at his arm. "Meanie."

"Okay, I'm around the corner. Yeah, she's with me." Derek fell silent, listening to Sam for a moment, then looking at Casey out of the corner of his eye. "Um, I dunno. Just don't tell him anything."

Casey snapped her head to look at him. "Is Max bothering Sam?"

Derek shook his head. "Yeah, in a second." He flipped it closed, tossing the phone onto the center console. "Nah. Sam's nosy."

"Thank you," Casey said softly, letting her eyes flutter closed. Derek was silent, and when Casey peeked an eyelid open, he was looking at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. "What?"

"Nothing." He blinked. "You're welcome."

Casey's brow furrowed, but she kept silent, closing her eyes once more.

After a few minutes, Casey felt Derek's hand brush her wrist, and she opened her eyes and sat up to see Sam jogging across the parking lot, purse in hand. "Thank God."

"Sam the Man comes through again." Derek pressed a button on his side and her window rolled down, letting her lean out of the car and accept the purse from him.

"Thank you so much, Sam," she said, dropping it at her feet.

"No problem." He leaned down, one hand on the hood of the car. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She smiled shakily and hugged him awkwardly through the window. "Really though. Thanks."

"I retrieved a purse. Lassie could've done it."

"And looked prettier doing it too," Derek added.

She shook her head. "Thanks," she said again, unable to think of anything else to say that wouldn't sound dramatic or dorky.

Sam smiled softly at her, connecting eyes with Derek over her shoulder. "You're welcome."

"I'm gonna take her home, Sam," Derek said. "Just fill me in on everything later."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry about stealing him away," Casey said.

"Eh, it'll be better without him anyway," Sam joked. "No guacamole on the nachos."

"You guys don't appreciate the brilliance of guacamole," Derek said. "Get outta here, loser."

"Later, dork." Sam gave a small salute, jogging back inside the restaurant.

"Okay, so are you gonna tell me what happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okayy," Derek said, turning the key in the ignition.

"I can't _believe _him!" Casey kicked at the dashboard angrily. 

"Hey now, easy on the car." Derek threw her a wary look from the driver's seat. "At least wait until we're home to start with the kicking."

She sighed, rummaging through her purse at her feet. "He has feelings for Amy. Like, he actually told me that," she said.

"Amy the ex? The cheerleader?" Casey nodded. "Whoops."

"_Whoops_? That's all you can say?"

"Whoopsie-daisy?"

She glared at him, pulling out her phone. "Why aren't we driving?"

"Old car. Needs to warm up." She gave him a look. "What? I turned it off when I parked. I didn't know we'd have to make a grand escape."

She bit her lip, punching in a text message to Emily. "Silly me, I forgot that you drive a piece of junk."

"It's not junk yet." Derek turned the ignition again, a loud grinding noise making Casey's teeth grind. "I can get another two months out of it, maybe." The engine died again with a sputter and he winced. "Maybe one."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not pushing it home."

"Like you could push it, wimp." He sighed. "Wait here."

He ducked out of the car, popping the hood and blocking Casey's view of the restaurant. She huffed, climbing out of the car and coming around to stand behind Derek. "This is a nightmare," she groaned.

"I think it's the starter," Derek said. "It was acting up before I left, but I thought I could scrape by."

"This thing is a money trap," she said. "How much have you spent on it, just for repairs, since you got it? Two grand?"

"Something like that," he grumbled. "Okay, I don't think we're getting anywhere."

Casey sighed. "Sam?"

"He doesn't have a car," he said. "Mom Mobile."

She shook her head. "Someone else from the team?"

He shrugged. "If you are going to _willingly _get into one of their cars, sure."

Casey thought of the majority of Derek and Sam's teammates and shuddered. "No thanks." She sighed. "I'll try Emily."

"Be my guest."

She rolled her eyes, dialing Emily on speed dial and tapping her foot as it rang. After a few seconds, she cursed. "Voicemail."

Derek sighed. "Nora," he said, resigned.

"Yeah, yeah." She dialed her mother's cell number, biting her lip. "Mom? Hey, Derek and I are at Smelly Nelly's and the Honda won't start. Could you pick us up?" She paused. "Um, yeah, Max was gonna give me a ride, but…something came up. No, everything's fine." Casey huffed in annoyance. "Could you just hurry please?" She flipped it closed. "She's coming."

Derek nodded. "Fine." He sunk down onto the curb, forearms resting on his knees. Casey sat down gingerly beside him, moving her purse into her lap. "Don't pay any attention to this," Derek said.

"What?"

"Max. Just…it's not even worth your time."

Casey rested her chin in her hands. "Doesn't feel like that."

"Yeah, well." Derek sighed. "Did you really want to embrace that cliché and date the _captain_ of the _football_ team, anyway?" Casey bit her lip. "Don't answer that."

"That's not why I dated him," Casey said.

"The guy wouldn't know an original thought if it hit him," Derek said. "He'd probably catch it and try and punt it, or something. Did you really want to deal with that much longer?"

Casey suppressed her smile. "Shut up."

"And the tan? He can't possibly get that thing naturally. And do you really want to be with a guy who regularly goes to a tanning salon?"

Casey shook her head, letting her laugh loose. The laugh soon turned into hiccups and her head fell down, shoulders shaking. "Jeez," she said, choked. "This sucks."

Derek slid an arm around her shoulders. "I know."

She let him pull her over and collapsed against his chest, tears streaming silently and wetting his collar. She grabbed onto his arm and squeezed, shutting her eyes tightly against the world.

Gradually, she calmed down, her tears subsiding to small sniffs and shoulder hitches. She kept her face pressed into Derek's shirt, feeling the crushing embarrassment and shame break through her fog.

He smelled like soap and something sharp and slightly bitter. He was warm and solid and he hadn't shaved that morning, she noticed. She could hear the faint thump of his heartbeat, and closed her eyes to the sound, focusing on the feel of his hand, rubbing her back slowly. "I thought you didn't do tears," she mumbled, voice hoarse.

"Don't tell anyone," he said. She pulled away and tried for a smile, but his arm stayed around her. "Besides, I'm used to them by now, living with you and all."

"Yeah." Casey relaxed into him, pressed up against his side, huddled against the bite of the autumn air. "What's wrong with me?"

"Oh, where to start." She elbowed him. "What? I have a list."

The corners of her mouth tugged into a smile. "Stop trying to make me feel better."

"Since when do insults make you feel better?"

"Since I met you," she volleyed back.

His face changed slightly and he faltered. "Heh. Well, I do tend to have that affect on people," he said, but the delivery was awkward.

Casey sighed. "How am I gonna face them at school tomorrow?" she asked miserably. "He said that they were waiting to tell me before they started dating again. They've been like, planning it." Her face crumpled. "Like some bad Dawson's Creek plot line. Meeting in secret and agonizing over the best way to break it to me."

"You'll ignore them tomorrow," he said, after a moment. "They'll probably try to talk to you, but you blow them off and act like the most exciting thing about the weekend was when you were stranded in a parking lot with me."

She snorted. "Don't flatter yourself."

"What, you didn't orchestrate this whole thing just to spend time with me?" He snapped his fingers. "Damn. Thought I'd called that one."

Her smile felt tight, stretched across her face. "I hate him. Stupid Max. With his stupid…face."

"Ah, and we're onto the inarticulate insult phase."

"Dumbhead." Casey kicked a pebble petulantly.

"He is a huge dumbhead," Derek said seriously. "Want me to beat him up?"

Casey laughed, genuinely for the first time. "Like you could."

"I _resent_ that," Derek said indignantly. "I could take him. Possibly." Casey snorted, shaking her head at him. "Okay, if I had my hockey gear on, you know I'd totally kick his ass."

"Maybe then." She smirked. "You could hit him with your big bat."

"It's a hockey _stick,_" Derek said, genuinely offended. "_Jeez_, Case."

"Whatever."

Derek shook his head, a half-smile on his face that suddenly froze, his eyes riveted to a spot over her shoulder. "Max is coming," he said quietly.

"What?" Casey's insides froze and her spine snapped straight, stiff as a board. "Oh God. Oh my God…"

"Just relax."

"Oh my _God!_" she hissed. "I don't want to look at him, let alone talk to him." She snuck a look over her shoulder and saw Max ducking out of the restaurant, heading for the section of the parking lot where Derek's car sat uselessly. "Oh God," she moaned.

Derek sighed, shifting slightly. "Just go with me on this."

Casey turned to look at him, distressed. "What are you – mmph." Derek pulled her into a kiss, cutting off her sentence abruptly. Her eyes widened and then slowly fluttered closed, shoulders unwinding.

Derek kept his eyes open, cradling her face in his hands. His body was shielding most of Casey's from view, as well as the car that they were both sitting next to, and he watched in satisfaction as Max gave him a cursory glance and moved on to his own car without stopping.

Casey, who had been unbelievably stiff before, was now relaxed, slumped over and leaning into Derek's hands. Her mouth opened under his and Derek closed his eyes suddenly, startled against the sudden jolt of electricity.

She tilted her head, changing the angle of the kiss to grab at his jacket, knees bumping against his. Derek heard the rumble of Max's car distantly as he drove away, but everything seemed remote and unimportant compared to the warmth of her skin and the sparks of heat dancing down his throat.

Their rhythm slowly descended and trailed off, Casey pulling away slightly to breathe. She kept her head bowed for a moment, eyes closed, before she brought her hands to her forehead, inhaling deeply.

Derek cleared his throat, looking away with effort. "He's gone," he said, and belatedly realized he was still touching her, hands on her shoulders now. He pulled back abruptly. "Sorry."

She shook her head, opening her mouth as if to say something. Nothing came, and she gestured helplessly. He nodded back, at a loss as well.

They sat in charged silence, knees still pressed together, until Nora drove up to take them home. They said nothing on the ride home, either, and if Nora noticed anything, she didn't mention it. Derek didn't look at her once the entire ride back, and as soon as they arrived home he turned around and left again, grabbing a ride from George to the local garage to get his car towed. Casey attempted to stay up to wait for him, but ended up falling asleep on top of her math textbook.

She woke up late and looked for Derek, appropriately finding him still asleep, which totally didn't explain how two hours later, Casey found herself laughing along with half the school's population as Max shuffled out of his physics classroom with bright streaks of orange through his hair and down his face, bleeding down his neck into his shirt.

"Look!" Emily grabbed her arm and pointed through to the back of the crowd. Casey stifled her laughter and peered through the people, catching sight of Derek leaning against a row of lockers, smirking. He was looking straight at her.

'How?' she mouthed.

He shrugged and made a face at her.

"Uch. He's so immature," she commented to Emily, making a face back. "Isn't it great?"

**Fin. **


	2. Crossover: Buffy I

**Five Crossovers**

**Part one half of Five**

**1: CASEY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER **

"Ah, what have we here?" Principal Lassiter entered the room with a predatory smile, eyeing the young woman, sitting patiently in the chair in front of his desk. Hearing his greeting, she leapt to her feet and donned a nervous smile, smoothing down her blouse.

"Um, hello, Mr. Lassiter. I'm Casey – "

"McDonald, I know. Please sit down." Lassiter ignored Casey's hand and went straight for his desk chair, dropping the huge manila folder onto his desk with a loud 'thump.' Casey jumped slightly, smoothing her hair behind her ears nervously. "Do you know what this folder contains, Ms. McDonald?"

The young woman gave a sheepish grin. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it's not a pile of glowing recommendations."

"Hardly," Lassiter drawled. "This, Ms. McDonald, is your permanent record." He opened the thick file with one index finger and sniffed. "Needless to say that it's not exactly what I'd been foolishly hoping for upon hearing that we'd be receiving a transfer student so late in the year."

Casey wilted a little under his gaze. "Well, it can't be _that_ bad…"

Lassiter raised one eyebrow and flipped a few pages in the file. "Fighting, multiple suspensions – "

"Okay, most of those times, I was just defending myself," Casey was quick to explain. "And that time with the Pepsi machine – totally an accident."

"…unbelievable amounts of absences and tardies, as well as several instances of truancy – "

"Yes, but a 3.7 GPA," Casey jumped in to add. "Pretty impressive, right?"

"Which brings us to why you're really here today," Lassiter said firmly, ignoring her. "You were expelled from your last school…"

"Yeah, well – "

"…for burning down the _gym._"

Casey gave a short, nervous laugh, searching for words. "Well," she started weakly, fading beneath his stern glare. "To be fair, you know, the gym was full of – " her eyes widened and she cut herself off abruptly. "Um. Rats. Yeah, a rat-infested gym. Wasn't healthy, really."

"Quite." Lassiter looked unmoved. "Let me assure you of one thing, Ms. McDonald. Your wild days are over. Instances like _this – _" he held up the thick file and let it drop again. " – will not be tolerated here at Sir John Sparrow. You step one toe out of line and I will be all over you in a microsecond. Is that clear?"

Casey gave a small squeak, nodding.

"Good." Lassiter leaned back in his chair, eyeing her suspiciously. "Now. Please see the secretary for your class schedule. She'll point you to our counselor, who will supply you with your textbooks." Casey nodded, frozen in her chair. "_Now." _

Casey jumped to her feet. "Um, right. Thank you?" She grabbed her purse and scampered out of the room quickly.

Lassiter leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. He loved new students.

--

"Um, hello?" Casey knocked tentatively on the large door, taking a step back when it creaked open. "Mr…Creepy?" She wrinkled her nose. "Paul Creepy? Really?"

"Yes?"

The voice came from nowhere and Casey jumped, one hand flying to her heart. "God! Lurk much? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Paul blinked stupidly, as if perplexed by her presence. "I'm Paul. Can I help you?"

Casey huffed slightly. "Uh, yeah. The secretary sent me here for my books. I'm the new kid?"

"The new – " Paul blinked again, then jumped into action. "Oh! You're – " he cut off and broke into a wide grin, voice turning almost reverent. "You're…_Casey_."

"Uh, yeah." Casey eyed him warily. "That's me."

"Wow. Um, okay." Paul shook his head, smiling. "You're shorter than I thought you'd be."

Casey backed up a step, beyond creeped out. "Right. Well, I kept a brick strapped to my head between the ages of four and ten. It was a thing." Paul kept smiling and she took another step back. "Uh…can I have my books, or what?"

"Oh right. Yes!" Paul dropped the pile of papers he was carrying on the desk, all of them fluttering around in flakes of white. "I have just what you need." He rummaged through the bookshelves, finally pulling out a huge text, bound in leather. He dropped it on the desk with a 'thud,' a cloud of dust exploding upwards from the ages pages. "Yup, this is what you need."

Casey frowned and coughed, waving away the dust with one hand. "What are you talking – " she stopped abruptly, catching sight of the cover. "Uh…no." Fear came over her face. "A world of no."

The title, etched into the huge cover, leapt up at her, seeming to glow ominously in the dim light of the office. _Vampyres and Daemons_ stared up at her mockingly as she shook her head vigorously.

"Really?" Paul looked confused. "Are you…sure?"

"Yeah." Casey couldn't tear her eyes from the book, shaking her head. "Yeah, I'm so sure that I can't stand it. Just… just get it away from me."

"But you…they told me – "

"Just – never mind, I'll come back later – " Casey finally tore her gaze away, shutting her eyes against the images that sprung up in her mind. She let loose a shaky breath and then promptly turned and fled from the second school administrator that morning.

--

"Can I help you?"

Casey sighed. Was it really that hard to find a friendly adult in this place? "Uh, yeah. I think I'm supposed to be in this class?" She scanned the room of students warily, bristling slightly as she heard several giggles and whispers break out among the teenagers.

"Oh, you're the new girl." Casey winced and nodded. "Okay. We've only got one seat open – there." Casey spotted the empty desk and shot to it, sitting down while trying not to look anyone in the eye. "I'll assume that you're familiar with polynomials from your previous schooling," the teacher went on. Casey gulped. "Now, if you'll all open your textbooks to page forty-eight, we'll begin."

Casey looked around, cursing. She'd scampered out of that creepy guy's office before picking up her textbooks. She bit her lip, hoping against hope she could fake it, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

A dark-skinned girl with curly hair offered her a friendly smile, holding up her own textbook. "Wanna share?" she whispered.

Casey breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, that'd be great." Finally, someone _nice._

"I'm Emily," the girl whispered, scooting her desk closer so that Casey could lean in.

"Casey," she whispered back. "I'm new."

"No, really?"

They shared a smile before leaning over the book together.

--

"Okay, so rule one of Sir John Sparrow," Emily said, leading Casey down by the arm. "Your locker determines your life, so pray for a good one."

"Well the crazy lady in the office told me that I'm in…" Casey rummaged through her binder, pulling out a scrap of paper. "324."

Emily winced. "Ouch. That's in the freshman hallway."

"And that's…bad?"

"Well, yeah. But workable." Emily shook her head a little, curls bouncing. "Okay, we'll deal with that later. Now onto the lunchroom – the real nerve center."

"Sounds very…technical," Casey commented, letting Emily lead her by the elbow into the large cafeteria.

"Okay, so let's take a rundown. The meatheads sit there." Emily pointed to two large tables, pushed together in the middle of the cafeteria. "Football team, mostly. The hockey team sits over there – " Emily pointed to a table populated by several boys, beneath the window. "If you have to choose, go with the hockey players. They're a hell of a lot more fun. And they know how to string a sentence together."

"Hockey over football, right."

"Cheerleaders and other various popular cliques gather around the hockey players and the meatheads." Emily smirked. "Kendra Mason's there." She pointed to a blonde, chatting with another girl by the hockey players' table. "She's the Queen Bee. Don't get on her bad side or you'll – well, just don't."

Casey nodded, trying to keep up. "Right."

"Stoners and burnouts there, volleyball girls over there, drama nerds by the doors," Emily listed. "And then there's us!" Emily brought Casey over to a table in the middle of the lunch room. "We're the neutrals. The 'who's that?' group. The 'blah' group. You get the idea."

Casey smiled and sat down to a bulky boy with dark brown hair, slurping Skist out of a can. "I'm a blah now?"

Emily shrugged and grinned. "It's an exclusive club, but I think you qualify."

"We are not blah, Emily. We are talented and creative individuals." The guy set down his Skist can and burped. "Excuse me."

"Sheldon, for God's sake." Emily rolled her eyes. "This is my boyfriend. Feel free to ignore him."

"Hi boyfriend," Casey said, holding out her hand. "I'm the New Girl."

"Casey McDonald, 3.7 GPA, transferred here from Kennedy High School in Toronto," Sheldon rattled off, shaking her hand. "Thinking of running for student council?" 

"Um," Casey replied.

"He does that," Emily said. "Hey, is it true that you were expelled?"

Casey jerked her head around to look at Emily. "What? How do you know that?"

"It's true?" Emily squealed. "That is _so_ cool."

"You didn't kill anyone, did you?" Sheldon asked. "Please keep in mind that I have a black belt in karate."

"No! I didn't kill – well, I – I'm not dangerous, or anything, I swear," Casey babbled, smiling nervously. "I just…had some disciplinary issues, that's all. The principal was a real piece of work."

"Well, you haven't exactly improved in that department," Emily said wryly. "Lassiter makes Ed Rooney seem like a dream."

"Yeah, I got that feeling from the interrogation this morning in his office," Casey replied. "I felt like I was stuck in an episode of Law and Order."

"He'll let up eventually," Sheldon said, speaking through his straw. "Underneath all that tweed, he really is a very gentle soul."

"Shut up, Sheldon."

Casey laughed, leaning back in her seat, when movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Turning her head to catch it, she saw a tall, lean teenager enter the lunch room, encased in a leather jacket and a pair of ripped, grungy jeans. His reddish-brown hair fell across his eyes, which scanned the room carefully. A tingle of awareness sped down Casey's spine and she stiffened in her chair. "Who's that?" she asked cautiously, not taking her eyes off the strange guy.

Emily looked, did a double-take, then looked quickly back at the table. "Don't look at him!" she hissed.

Too late. The guy caught Casey's gaze and held it, one eyebrow raised. Casey stared back, nonplussed. He gave her a once over, sweeping her from head to toe, then slowly smirked before turning away and walking steadily to the ala carte line. The cafeteria, which had grown eerily silent upon his entrance, resumed normal activity as all the teens in the room seemed to take a collective sigh of relief.

"Holy crap," Sheldon said. "Did he just check her _out?_"

"I think so. Wow."

"What?" Casey blinked, coming out of the strange stupor she'd fallen into. "Who is he?"

"That's Derek Venturi," Emily said, voice hushed. "He's like…wow. He checked you _out!"_

"What's so special about him?" Casey demanded. "He looks like a regular guy."

"He's not," Sheldon said. "It's kinda sad, actually."

"Yeah. I used to live next door to him, before…well, before," Emily said quietly. "He used to swim in my pool."

"Before _what?_" Casey said impatiently. "What the hell is the deal with him?"

Emily sighed. "Well, he used to be this normal guy, right? He was on the hockey team, really popular and everything." She rolled her eyes. "He dated everybody, all the girls loved him. He dated Kendra for awhile, even." Her face darkened. "Then…"

"What?" Casey asked.

"His family was killed," Sheldon said bluntly. "His dad and his brother. They were like, attacked or something."

"I heard that their throats were ripped out," Emily said in a hushed voice. "The cops said that it was like, a wild animal of some kind, like a bear or a dog. But who ever heard of a bear in London, Ontario?"

"His family was killed?" Casey said quietly. She studied the back of his head, seeing his shoulders tense up, as if he could realize that she was looking at him.

"Yeah. And of course, nobody's gonna be the same after that, right?" Emily shrugged, face somber. "But Derek like, freaked out. He started saying all these insane things about…magic and vampires and stuff." She shuddered.

Casey perked up. "Vampires," she repeated flatly.

"Yeah." Sheldon shook his head. "Losing something like that can really mess a guy up."

"Right…" Casey said absently. "So he started…what, talking about vampires at school and stuff?"

"Well," Emily said thoughtfully. "No. He accused the mayor of hiding this huge conspiracy, like how demons and vampires were real, and the story about the wild animal was just a cover up." She frowned. "It was so weird. Everyone thought he was insane, obviously, with grief, or whatever. Then they threatened to take Marti away, and well. Derek shut up then."

"Marti?" Casey asked.

"Derek's little sister," Sheldon supplied. "Their mom is in…Boca, or someplace. Derek takes care of her. He was eighteen when his dad died, so the courts awarded him custody of Marti."

"Yeah, he works a full-time job somewhere, doing something at the courthouse," Emily said. "He's only here half of the day. He's got some arrangement worked out with Paul, the counselor."

"Paul," Casey repeated, Spidey sense tingling. "Right."

"He's nineteen now," Emily said. "Technically he should've graduated already, but, well. Something like that happens, school isn't exactly your first priority."

The three fell into contemplative silence, Casey watching surreptitiously as Derek paid for a wrapped sandwich and strode out of the lunchroom, not sparing her a glance.

"Just shows you how crazy life can be," Sheldon said. "Anyway, you should stay away from him, at any rate. I hear he's a little…unstable."

Emily snorted. "Understatement. He attacked some guy last month, no kidding. And he goes out at night all the time. I see him walking around after dark."

Sheldon shook his head. "Sad."

"Yeah, really."

Casey was silent, staring at the door that Derek had disappeared into. "Uh huh," she chimed in aimlessly. "Really sad."

--

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Max Cahill was finishing up his daily midday workout, a ritual that had helped him not only stay in shape year round, but climb quickly to the position of captain of the football team.

He slung a towel over his shoulder, whistling a song under his breath. Yup, life was good. His game had never been better – both on the field and with Amy Marshall – and he'd just gotten word from his math teacher that he'd passed that brutal exam after all. He was halfway to a new car, and his parents promised him a trip to Florida over Spring Break if he kept up the pattern of good grades. He had absolutely nothing to complain about at all.

Except for the big, growly guy in front of him.

"Hey, what are you – "

His words were cut off by an impossibly strong hand around his neck. The towel on his shoulder fell to the floor in a damp heap and the water bottle in his other hand dropped with a clatter, splashing liquid all over the tile. Max sputtered and choked for air, clawing uselessly at the arm that had captured him, blood rushing to his face and vision narrowing to two small dots. He distantly felt his feet leave the floor as he was hoisted up into the air by his neck.

"Hello, pretty," he heard a distant voice purr. Chills raced down his spine. "Fancy meeting you here."

Sharp pain shot through Max's neck and he cried out in pain, eyes rolling back in his head.

"It's just that I find greeting cards so passé," the voice hissed. "Where am I supposed to find one that says 'Welcome to your death,' anyway?" The voice crackled with laughter and Max cried out again, another sharp pain shooting through his neck. He struggled for another moment as darkness descended, then finally went limp in his captor's hands as his world faded to black.

--

"Oh my God!" The scream echoed through the entire hallway, the shrill female voice bouncing off the metal lockers. "Max! It's Max! Oh my God!"

Students stopped and stared, clustering together in small groups. Faces were pale and drawn and hands went to cover mouths as the stretcher containing what once was Max Cahill was rolled down out of the boys' locker room and into the ambulance waiting outside.

Amy Marshall was nearing hysterics, fighting against the grips of Mr. Lassiter and Paul Creepy alike, fighting to get to the stretcher. She finally collapsed into a heap on the ground, tears rolling down her face. Lassiter gathered her up and brought her through the crowd of students, taking her into the main office. "Out of the way! Back to class!" he barked.

Casey, coming out of a classroom, stopped dead at the crowds of students in the hallway. "What's going on?" she asked aloud. No one answered her.

"Holy crap. Casey!" Casey caught sight of Emily, running towards her. "You'll never believe what happened!"

"Spice Girls making a comeback tour? Yeah, heard about that."

"Max Cahill just got killed!" Emily said, ignoring Casey's quip. "In the boys' locker room! His girlfriend found him – they think he's dead!"

Casey's entire body froze. "How did he die?" she demanded.

"What?" Emily asked, confused.

"I mean – how was he killed? Were there marks?"

Emily frowned. "I – I don't know. _Why?_"

Casey shook her head, face dark. "Never mind."

Paul came back out of the main office and slammed his hand on a row of lockers, whistling shrilly to get the students' attention. The murmuring and faint crying descended and silence fell. "Okay, listen. We can't give out any information at this time. We want you all to go back to class and try and stay calm. Classes will be let out in an hour, so if you need to arrange a ride, do it now. I'll be available all day for anyone who'd like to talk."

Casey watched the tall guidance counselor with narrowed eyes. "Paul Creepy," she suddenly said. "What's his deal?"

Emily gave her a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"How long has he been here?"

"I dunno, a while. They hired him after Edwin and George Venturi were…you know." Emily swallowed. "Nothing like that had ever happened here before. A lot of people were scared."

Casey nodded. "Does he seem…okay, to you?"

"Huh?"

"Like…does he creep you out?"

Emily shrugged, a perplexed look on her face. "No. Why would he?"

"No reason." Casey kept her gaze on Paul, talking quietly with another teacher as the students filed slowly back into the classrooms.

"I can't believe Max is _dead,_" Emily said. "I mean, he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but…jeez. I can't believe it's happening again. We must be cursed."

"No, not cursed," Casey replied distantly. "Not yet."

"What?"

"Nothing." Casey tore her eyes away from the counselor. "Look, I think I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Paul?" Emily frowned. "Oh, are you freaking out about this? I'm sorry, this must be such a sucky first day for you."

Casey gave a humorless laugh. "You have no idea."

--

"Okay, Creepy. What's going on?"

Paul blinked, head popping up from the paperwork on his desk. "Pardon?"

"I mean, what's going on?" Casey dumped her bag into the chair in front of Paul's desk and started pacing. "This is _so _not how I wanted my first day here to go. I thought I'd be dealing with some new-girl hazing, maybe some resentment for transferring so late, bitchy cheerleaders, you know. The usual. But what do I get instead?"

Paul blinked again. "What?"

"Vampires!" Casey exclaimed. "A dead guy in the locker room! A creepy guidance counselor with creepy books!" She huffed and crossed her arms. "Now, listen. I did my job, it's over now. Why is it still happening?"

"Over?" Paul frowned. "You – what?"

"I did this already!" Casey threw up her hands, mortified to realize she was near tears. "I went to the party, kicked some ass, ruined my life, got the t-shirt. So what the _hell?_"

"You're talking about Max Cahill," Paul said, trying to catch up.

"Duh!"

"Okay, okay." Paul rummaged through his drawers, pulling out the book from that morning. "So you are – "

"The unluckiest chick in the world? Yeah." She crossed her arms. "Spill."

Paul blanched. "Oh. W – well, uh – "

"Don't have all day, you know. Places to go, things to kill." She flashed him an irritated look. "Hurry up. Do you ever clean your desk? Jeez."

Paul huffed, unfolding a sheath of papers from the inside cover of the huge volume. "I've been doing buckets of research – I designed this algorithm to translate ancient Etruscan, and it's really been handy, I mean, I had to reverse the – "

"English!" Casey cut in.

"Right. Well, I've dug around in the history of this town a little – what do you know about London, exactly?"

"Um, it's three hours away from the nearest Bloomingdale's?"

"There's a fairly steady stream of…weird stuff," Paul said. "To put it bluntly. You plug the longitude and latitude of London into any prophecy and you get all kinds of icky things popping up. Ritual sacrifices, animal slayings, mysterious disappearances and killings…"

"Wow. Sounds like a fun party town." Casey crossed her arms. "This has what to do with the dead guy?"

"I think," Paul continued, "that this town is on some sort of – of hot spot of mystical energy. That's why odd things seem to always be happening – in fact, it's as if this entire region is some sort of strange gathering of negative energy. Did you know that there's an inter-dimensional portal underneath a high school in Toronto? They lose a couple kids to it every year – this young woman Hazel Aden was pulled in just last spring – "

"Wow, you know that rambly thing you do? Less cute and more annoying."

"The _point,_" Paul said pointedly. "Is that we're in the middle of ground zero. There are things here that you won't find anywhere else."

"Like vampires," Casey said.

"Like werewolves, demons, vampires, those little pygmy things with the – the teeth – " Paul shuddered. "Everything."

"Great," Casey said, feigning enthusiasm. "So how do we stop it?"

"Stop – well, that's a little complicated – "

"Well uncomplicate it," Casey said. "I'm not spending the rest of my life chasing after dead guys, okay? I did it, it's over."

"Casey, you can't just…quit," Paul said. "This is your destiny."

"My _destiny?!_" Casey repeated. "It's my _destiny_ to spend all my time fighting for my life, knowing that I might die at any second? To get expelled, ruin any slim chances I have of getting into college, alienate myself from my family because I have to keep this big damn secret from them, knowing that if I _do_ tell them I might put them in danger?!" She exhaled forcefully. "You know what? Why don't _you_ do it?"

"Me?" Paul sputtered.

"Yeah. Not that hard. Get a stick, point and stab. Easy as cake."

"I – I'm a Watcher, I can't. I wouldn't be able to – "

"Oh come on. Not that hard. A monkey could do it. Hey, could a monkey do it?"

"I'm supposed to _train_ you," Paul said. "I was sent here to wait for you, to prepare for your arrival – "

"_Prepare._ Great. What's so great about me?" Paul opened his mouth but she cut him off. "Don't answer that. You know what? I've had a real crappy day, you know. Bad hair day, interrogated by everyone, dead guy in the gym. I'm gonna head home, and you can call me…you know what, let's make it never." She grabbed her bag and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Paul stammered in her absence, letting his hands slowly fall back to the desk. "Oh, that went well."

--

"So this is the hang out, huh?"

"Our own version of Central Perk," Emily replied cheerily. "Only, you know. Lamer."

"Ah." Casey slid into a booth across from her new friend, plastering a smile on her face. "So what else do Londoners do?"

"Oh we party hard, man. All night long." Emily shrugged and grinned. "Like once a year. Hockey playoffs. We hit the juice hard, you should see it."

Casey nodded. "Hookay."

"Ooh, there's Sam and Ralph." Emily waved at two guys on the other side of the restaurant, sitting at a table and talking. A shaggy blonde boy looked up and smiled, waving back. The other boy, a bulkier brunette encased in what looked to be painfully tight leather pants, looked up as well, smirking. "Sam Phillips and Ralph DelMacchio. They're good people."

"I'm all for good people." Casey smiled in Sam and Ralph's direction. Sam looked mildly surprised, but smiled back, while Ralph kept on smirking.

"They used to hang out with Derek Venturi a lot," Emily said distantly. "Eh. I hope I didn't freak you out at lunch today, telling you all that stuff all at once."

Casey snorted, amused. "I'm not made of glass, Emily."

"I know." Emily shrugged. "This town, though, it's…" she trailed off, uncomfortable. "It's a little strange to people who haven't lived here long. A lot of…weird stuff happens."

"Like that guy today?"

Emily creased her eyebrows together, looking uncomfortable. "It's hard to explain."

Casey shrugged. "So what's the good eats here?"

--

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Emily."

Emily smiled. "Me too! We should totally hang out again."

Casey gave a genuine grin, bumping Emily's shoulder. "Sure. Call me, okay?"

"Will do." Emily paused. "You sure you don't want a ride home?"

"Nah, I'll walk."

Emily looked a little wary. "It's getting dark. Are you sure?"

Casey laughed. "What could happen?" Emily blanched. "Look, don't worry about me, I'm a big city girl. I can handle the big bad streets of London." She gave a jaunty wave to a still nervous Emily and strode off in the opposite direction, disappearing down the dark street.

"No vampires, nah nah nah. No demons, nah nah nah!" Casey sang softly to herself, blowing puffs of breath that made clouds in the air. "I will have a normal life, nah nah nah, and that guy's death is not because of me, nah nah nah, because vampires don't exist, bah ba da da!"

A rustle to her left caught her ears and she froze momentarily. "I didn't not hear that, bum bum bah, because this is a normal town, ba bum da…"

Another rustle came to her ears and she rolled her eyes. "Dammit." She turned around, throwing her arms out. "You're kind of interrupting my denial here!"

A dark shape came flying at her from the left and she ducked, moving down and to the right. Coming back up, she landed a kick to the figure's back, pulling a stake from her coat as it hit the ground.

The vampire rose, charging her and snarling, fang-face in full regalia. Casey sidestepped him again and plunged the stake into his back, stepping back as he crumbled into dust.

She hacked a few times, spitting onto the cement. "Oh come _on._ Ew!" She coughed again. "I'm so not into eating vampire bits, thank you."

Another rustling sound reached her sensitive ears and she huffed. "You know, my curfew's eleven, so I don't have all night to stand around and wait for you to attack me?"

"So you're the one…"

The voice came from behind and Casey whirled around. "What is _with_ you people and the silent walking? Jeez."

"You're the one they're all talking about." A seemingly young woman was leaning against a tree, long blond hair tumbling in waves down her back. She looked about sixteen or seventeen, and in the light of day, might have been mistaken for someone Casey's age. But there in the dark, her smile was too dark and her eyes were too bright for her to be human.

"Yeah, that's me. I'm a legend, all right." Casey rolled her eyes. "Could we possibly skip the bantery and skip to the fighty? Grey's Anatomy is on in like, fifteen minutes."

"You don't look all that influential," the vampiress drawled. "In fact, you look downright…weak."

"Wow, if that's your trash talk, I don't wanna know where you've been the last couple hundred years or so," Casey quipped. "Weren't you alive when trash talk was invented, or something?"

The blonde smirked. "Why oh why does Derek like you so much?" The blonde tilted her head, smiling whimsically. She stepped down off the tree stump she'd been perched on and sauntered towards Casey, reaching out to trail one slender finger down Casey's cheekbone. "I'd like to understand; like to…figure _you out._"

Casey raised one eyebrow. "Yeah, okay, Bertha. Let's back off on the naughty touching." Then she did a double take. "Wait – Derek? Derek Venturi?"

The blonde smirked. "Look at you, with your little stick, and your…" she swept Casey's body clinically. "Aw, your boots match your sweater. How adorable. I think I'll keep you."

"Right. That'd be _my_ cue, loco lady." Casey lunged, only to be held back with a clawed hand at her throat.

"Why don't you call me Sally," the vampire snarled, and promptly launched Casey into the air.

She crashed into a fencepost, landing on the ground in a tumbled heap. "What – kind of name – is Sally?" she grunted, pulling herself up. Her senses pricked once again, and she felt fear spike in her stomach. "Bitch. That hurt."

In a split second, the vampiress was on her again, pinning her to the ground. "I like my name," she growled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were a Cabbage Patch Doll." Casey smirked and kicked her into a tree. "Or is it Cabbage Patch Person? Correct me on the PC term."

Sally growled and attacked again. Casey bent her knees and rammed an elbow into the blonde's solar plexus, gaining the opportunity to ram the stake through her neck.

The blonde vampire hit the ground hard, laughing. "Idiot. That won't kill me."

"No, but it buys me time." Casey gave a jaunty salute and promptly turned and ran in the opposite direction.

"Shit." Sally leapt up. "Don't just stand there, get her!" Five vampires who had previously been hidden all came into full view and tore after the rapidly disappearing brunette. Sally pulled herself up by a fence post, ripping the stake from her flesh. Smirking in the direction Casey had gone, she smirked, licking the blood from her lips. "Game and set."

--

"Crap." Casey was in shape – plus she had the whole superhuman strength thing going for her – but running still sucked. Ducking a glance over her shoulder to gauge the distance between her and her pursuers, she made a quick decision and ducked into a nearby building, flattening herself in the entryway of what looked like an apartment building to catch her breath.

Five to one – she really didn't like those odds. Plus, she had no weapons of any kind on her, save for the stake she'd left abandoned in the psychotic blonde's neck. She huffed, banging her head against the back of the wall. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Rolling her eyes, she turned to the ceiling, shaking her head. "I get it now, okay? Vampires are real, I need to make with the killing. You couldn't have just sent a memo?"

Her senses alerted her to the lackeys' presence and she ducked into the shadows, watching as all five vamps gathered right outside the glass doors she was standing behind, sniffing the air like a bunch of pack dogs. She backed up slowly, looking around the lobby for something to do real violence with and spotted a wooden podium, placed near the wall. Ducking over to it, she broke off a vaguely stake-shaped piece with one crack of her hand.

"She's in here." A loud, shocking crash echoed through the empty lobby as one of the glass doors shattered. The vamps filed through the now empty doorway, lining up like some sort of twisted, evil conga line. "Come out, girlie! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Casey rolled her eyes. Dead people were so lame.

She kept her spot behind the podium, knowing full well that they'd be able to sense her heartbeat in seconds. Waiting until the split second when she spotted an undead leg, she leapt, staking one in the back before any of them figured out what was happening.

Not waiting around for explanations, she tore off deeper into the building. One down, four to go.

She ducked into a stairwell, leaping up the flight of stairs faster than she'd ever climbed stairs in her life, bursting onto the second floor, hearing the vampires angry shouts and footsteps close behind her. She wasn't even three feet into the hallway before she felt a cold hand on her arm. Instead of pulling away like it expected her to, she spun into it, coming in close to his chest and sending vamp number two into dust bunnies. She gave a congratulatory smirk and tore off down the hallway again, trying to gain her wits.

They caught up with her at the end of the hall – three to one. She was backed up against a window seat, with all three facing her. She rolled her eyes as they all eyed her neck, drooling and growling. "You guys are like puppies," she said. "Big, bumpy puppies with fangs."

"No more running," one of them said. "You'll pay."

"Yeah, news flash, asshole," she said, fighting stance in place. "I've been paying already, for a long time." She lunged forward, blocking his right hook and plunged the wood into his chest, sending a cloud of dust flying onto the carpet. The trio becomes a duo.

So fighting one vamp in hand-to-hand combat is pretty intense, but Casey had to decide that fighting two was even worse. She found herself tiring quickly as she held them both off, only barely managing to dodge their grasp. She felt her dread building as they slowly backed her into the window, cornering her. Already weary from the fight with Sally, as well as the running adventure down the streets of London, Casey felt herself slipping, moves growing sloppier, movements growing drowsier. In some place in her head, there was a voice laughing at her, one that sounded suspiciously like Paul Creepy.

_Should've listened to me, eh? Now look what's happening. It's your own fault, anyway, you're the one who wanted to pretend that everything was okay._

Casey glared at her attackers – two vampires in hand-me-down funeral garb, both obviously freshly arisen. Sally must like the hunger lust, she figured, but the bigger part of her was too busy hating the two creatures that she was pretty sure would end up killing her. She decided that she wouldn't go easy, at any rate. She'd fight herself to death if that's what it took.

She had just landed a lucky kick to one of the vampire's sweet spots (yeah, even dead, that still hurt) when the other suddenly had her from behind, hands clamped on her arms, rancid breath blowing over her ear. "Look who's the puppy now?"

Casey struggled but found herself too drained of energy. She grimaced as she felt the vampire lower its face to her neck and she clenched her eyes shut, waiting to feel the press of a mouth, the prick of fangs –

And instead felt the vampire dissolve into dust.

"You know, Grey's Anatomy is on. I thought you guys knew how cranky I get when I don't get my McDreamy fix."

Casey collapsed to the carpeted hallway, breathing heavily. Her eyelids were drooping, the strain of her multiple injuries adding to her exhaustion. She fought briefly against the coming darkness, seeing the dark shapes of two figures fighting, the silhouette of her rescuer outlined against the light from the street lamp shining in from the window.

She heard the telltale sound of the second vampire crumbling into dust, and then there were hands on her cheeks, a fuzzy shape of a face coming slightly into focus.

"…asey?" She squinted, trying to figure out who it was. "…on, stay with me…kind of Slayer are you?" She groaned and opened her eyes wider, but was rewarded only with the flash of light brown hair before her vision blanked out and she tumbled backwards into darkness.

**TBC**

**Ahem. DON'T JUDGE ME, OKAY?**


	3. Crossover: Buffy II

Are you going to **LET ME UPDATE, NOW**? Jeez, ffnet. (What a_ whore,_ am I right? )

_--_

Casey the Vampire Slayer: 2/2

--

"Smerek, there's a _girl_ in our house!"

Casey started awake, moaning as the vestiges of her eerie dream slipped away. She tried to grab onto it, but was left only with a vague feeling of unease.

"Marti, hush. Don't wake her up."

"I think she's already awake."

"You don't _know_ that." Casey kept her eyes closed, the voices creeping up and grabbing her attention. A man and a little girl.

The girl sighed mournfully. "Yes, I _do._ She's just pretending to be asleep, like you do whenever Dora the Explorer comes on."

The guy's voice sounded irritated. "Marti, leave her alone, for God's sake." Casey heard footsteps and rustling, and she imagined the man swinging the girl up into his arms. "She had a rough night last night."

"Did the monsters try and get her?"

"Yeah, the monsters tried to get her." He sounded sad. "They didn't though."

"Cuz you killed 'em, right?"

"Something like that." The voices faded out as they left the room, and Casey waited until silence fell again before opening her eyes.

Wow, _mistake._ She clamped them shut again, groaning, as the bright room instantly aggravated her slight headache into a full-blown migraine. She moved around experimentally, jiggling her arms and legs.

She was lying on a bed or futon of some kind, with a blanket thrown over her body. Her head was on a pillow. She wiggled her hips slightly, breathing a sigh of relief as she realized she was still in her clothes. Thank God. Saved her life or not, nobody took off her pants without her permission, thank you.

She tried for opening her eyes again, letting them adjust to the light slowly as she sat up, rubbing her neck where a sore muscle screamed in protest. She looked around as her vision returned fully and saw a bedroom – in what looked like an apartment – sparsely decorated, but with large pictures of several musicians and TV stars on the walls. She recognized several Disney figures, and a large hanging of Hannah Montana, as well as a poster of…Elvis? The bed she was lying in was draped in shades of purple, and in various corners of the room there sat several stuffed animals.

She slowly rose to her feet, wincing as her muscles made it clear that they were very much _pissed off,_ thank you. She patted herself down, feeling that most of her wounds from the fights before were healed, although she was still sore. Well, at least that was normal.

Memories from last night flashed before her eyes, and she shuddered. First night and town and she's already got a crazy skank-vamp on her ass. Wonderful.

"_Why oh why does Derek like you so much?"_

Crazy Sally's voice echoed through her memory, and Casey frowned. Derek Venturi had saved her, right? And this was his apartment? Was this his sister's room that she apparently had spent the night in?

Well, only one way to find out. She padded over to the bedroom door in her sock-clad feet, pushing it open slowly to peer down the hallway. Following it down, she trailed her hand along the wall as she came into a living room that led into a small kitchen, with a bar area opening over a counter between the two.

"I _told you_ she was awake." Casey turned to look at the voice she'd heard before and was greeted with the sight of a little girl, clad in bright green pajamas. She had shoulder-length brown hair and was chewing on a piece of toast. "Hi!" she said, displaying a mouthful of bread. "I don't know who you are, but you slept in my bed last night. So you must be okay – but you still better not have spilled anything on my sheets."

"Marti." Casey turned to see Derek Venturi leaning over the counter from the kitchen, looking into the living room at Marti, on the couch. Casey gave him a once over. He was dressed in what she had an inkling was his standard – jeans and a shirt, and yep, there was his leather jacket there on the couch. His hair was wet from a shower and she could see the outline of his shoulders beneath his t-shirt. She shivered. Strange vampire-hunter-guy certainly wasn't hard on the eyes. "Try and act like a human, kay?"

"_You're_ human," Marti shot back, as if it were an insult.

"Well, you're awake," Derek announced.

"Finally," Marti chimed in.

"Um, hi," Casey said. "And yes, I am awake. And I'm Casey."

"Hi, Casey!" Marti chirped. "Wanna watch Spongebob?"

"Um."

"Marti, why don't you watch really close and make sure you remember everything so you can tell us later, alright?" Derek said, moving out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"Where are you going?" Marti demanded.

"We're gonna go clean my room," Derek called. "Maybe you should try it." He took Casey's arm and led her back down the hallway, stopping at a different door, closer to the living area than Marti's had been. "Sorry." He cleared his throat, opening the door for her. "That was Marti. My sister."

"I know," she replied. "I mean, Emily Davis told me. In the cafeteria, about you and your sister. I figured that was her, unless you make it a habit of taking in strange little girls."

A wry smile twisted Derek's lips. "Yeah, well. I continue to be the most-talked about person in the school, even if it's in a different way now. Can't say I like it this way much better."

Casey entered his room, looking around at the small room. "So," she said briskly, sinking down on his bed. "You saved my life last night."

"I guess." He sat down beside her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Derek said graciously. "I figured you'd be…taller, or something, though. More muscles. I've never really seen you up close."

"What?" Casey asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you know, they all talk about the Slayer like she's some Wonder Woman kind of chick," he replied, shrugging. "But you just look…normal. Like a person."

"Normal?" she said, unsure whether or not to be offended. "I happen to be better than – wait a minute. Who's 'they' and what the hell is a 'slayer?'"

"The Watcher's Council," Derek replied, as if it were obvious. Casey stared at him blankly. "You – you don't _know?_"

"Know what?"

"Aw, jeez. That's why you were so weird with Paul." He ran a hand through his hair. "But they sent you a Watcher in Toronto, he – he trained with you for a month. You killed Lothos – a _master_ vampire. How did you do that if you didn't know who you are?"

"What do you mean, who I am?" Casey shrugged. "All I _know_ is that I woke up one morning and accidentally broke off the faucet in my bathroom. The next thing I know, big burly guys with pointy teeth are all over me, and I'm the only one who seems to know they exist."

"But – Merrick. They sent you Merrick Atwood."

"Merrick…you mean Rick?" Casey frowned. "He was my dance teacher…he taught me some moves." Derek stared at her incredulously, then jumped up and cursed loudly, slamming a hand into the wall. "Wow, you really don't like to dance, then, huh," she said flatly, watching him pace.

"_Idiot,_" he said emphatically. "How are you supposed to – if you don't _know?_ Jesus _Christ."_

"What?" Casey demanded. "Look, you seem to know a hell of a lot more about me than even _I_ do, so you mind filling me in, please?"

Derek sighed. "Wow. This so wasn't in the job description. Okay – you – you never wondered why you suddenly had all these Supergirl powers? Like the strength, super healing, hearing, eyesight?"

Casey shrugged. "I kind of stopped asking questions after the captain of the cheerleading squad came back from the dead and tried to eat me."

"Okay." Derek blew out a long breath. "You're…you're called the Slayer. There's only one at a time, in the entire world, and you're it. You have all these abilities because you're naturally equipped to kill."

"Kill?" Casey repeated incredulously.

"You know, stab, maim, rip, tear. Kill. Mostly evil things, though I wouldn't mind pointing you in Lassiter's direction for a change."

"Huh."

"Yeah." He crossed his arms. "Each Slayer has a Watcher – someone to train them and guide them through their life's journey, blah blah blah. Merrick was yours, and now that you're here in London, it's Paul."

"Paul." Casey raised an eyebrow. "The guidance counselor is my Watcher?"

"Yeah, well." Derek shrugged. "The Council started branching out a bit in the 60's, training people in different countries and such. Apparently the commute from here to London _proper_ is kind of a bitch."

Casey closed her eyes, every single time her old teacher had taught her a certain move that had seemed a bit too…_violent_ for a recital, every time he'd left her alone with incriminating books, running through her mind. She suddenly felt incredibly slow.

"Why wouldn't he tell me?" she wondered aloud. "I thought I was…"

"Alone?" Derek looked down at his feet. "Know the feeling."

She snapped her head up to look at him. "You…they killed your family," she said.

He shook his head, eyes growing dark. "Winston Sinclair killed my family," he corrected.

"The mayor?"

"And a demon. Or a really old vampire, or _something._ I can't get close enough to figure it out." He shook his head. "That girl you partied with last night – his daughter. Sally Sinclair."

"Psycho bitch is the mayor's daughter?" Casey made a face. "Ugh."

"She's new, though. Mayor Sick and Twisted had a human child, then turned her as soon as she got old enough to be useful." An odd expression crossed Derek's face. "Sally used to be human. Now, though…"

"Emphatically _not,_" Casey said, touching her forehead where Sally had thrown her into the fence.

"Look, you need to be careful," Derek said. "The kid from yesterday, Cahill – "

"The dead kid?"

"Yeah." Derek sighed. "Sally killed him as a welcoming gift for you. Or one of her groupies did, anyway. They found your name on him."

"On him, like written on a piece of paper, or – " Derek gave her a significant look. "Oh. _Oh. _Gross!"

"Yeah. The police will be watching you."

"The _police?_" Casey scoffed. "Great! Just what I need."

"They're all under Sinclair's thumb. They don't have anything to arrest you with – yet. Just play it cool and be careful."

"Wait – how do you know this?" Casey frowned. "What gets you involved in all this? And what did you mean, you've never seen me 'up close'?"

Derek shrugged. "I work for the Council. I went to – you know. Check you out, in Toronto."

"You _checked_ me _out?_" Casey raised an eyebrow.

"It was a job," Derek drawled. "Don't get too excited, Princess."

"Well, then." Casey shook her head, feeling a little excited and a little unsettled, all at the same time. "Lucky me."

He quirked his mouth, amusement spreading across his face. "You're a hell of a fighter," he said. "I wouldn't have had to help you if those vamps hadn't caught you in a low point."

"Well thank you," she said. "You must be too, if you saved me."

"I'm mostly lucky," he said.

"Thought that was me," she said, smirking. He chuckled and their eyes met, electricity sparking between them.

"SMEREK!" They both jumped, startled. "Spongebob is over and it was the one where Squidward gets covered in cement and Spongebob and Patrick think that he's an animal and they try to adopt him and he can't talk so he can't do anything about it even though he gets really really maaad!"

Derek sighed. "If I don't stop her she'll yell us a dissertation." He smirked and jogged out into the hallway. "Wow, Smarti, it's not like we never watched _that one_ before!"

Casey chuckled to herself, looking down at her hands. Slayer. She had a name, a title, an identity. She was the Slayer.

"Casey, it's nine o'clock, we're gonna be late!"

Casey startled. "School?" she said idly. "Oh crap. I stayed out all night!" She leapt to her feet, groaning. "My mom's gonna _kill_ me."

--

"Casey!" Walking into her first period classroom, Casey was met with a bruising hug from a bouncing, hyperactive female. "Oh thank _God_ you're alright!"

"What?" Casey coughed. "Emily, oxygen."

"Oh, sorry!" Emily leapt back. "Is it true?"

"What's true?" Casey laughed, moving to her seat.

"That Derek kidnapped you!" Emily said with wide eyes. "It's all over the school. Your mom has been calling everyone in town all night, looking for you. Then someone said they saw you at Derek's apartment building this morning, and now they're saying that he grabbed you outside Smelly Nelly's last night – "

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, Em," Casey said. "I wasn't kidnapped! I was with Derek, but he certainly didn't _kidnap_ me."

"You were with Derek?" Emily repeated. "Oh my _God,_ Casey!"

"What? He's a nice guy," Casey insisted. "He kind of saved my ass, actually."

"What?"

"Never mind." Casey frowned. "Why's everyone saying he kidnapped me?"

"Well, what are we supposed to think? Everyone knows that Derek's a psycho," Emily said bluntly. "Look are you sure you're okay? Derek didn't force you to…do anything, did he?"

_I wish,_ she thought, before she could stop herself. "No! I just…" she sighed. "I've been having a lot of trouble with my mom lately, and I just…didn't really want to go home. I met up with Derek and we talked. I crashed on his couch – nothing happened."

"Well, you better tell your mom that," Emily said, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Great." Casey feigned enthusiasm. She'd avoided calling her mother that morning, delaying the inevitable blow out from staying out all night with no phone call. Not that Casey hadn't been in the same situation before, but she had promised her mother to leave her 'shady past' behind with this move to London.

She gave a long sigh, collapsing onto her desk as her chemistry teacher blustered into the room, already calling for last night's homework. This was going to be a long day.

--

"So is it true that Derek Venturi forced you into his sex slave ring?"

Casey blew out an irritated breath, brushing past the inquisitive voice into the cafeteria. Slamming her tray down next to Emily's, she huffed her way into a chair. "The next person that asks me about Derek's connections to the mafia, I'm gonna go all Xena on their ass."

Emily shrugged. "I heard he was a crack dealer."

Casey groaned. "For God's sake, he's not evil. Compared to some people."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Emily frowned. "You do that a lot." Casey shrugged, trying to look innocent.

A sudden commotion drew their attention from the other side of the lunchroom and Casey and Emily both stood, drawn by the yelling. Half of the cafeteria was crowding the windows, tons of kids trying to peer outside.

"It's Venturi! He did it! He did it!"

"Holy crap, look at them."

"I always knew he was a psycho."

Casey frowned, moving forward. "What? What's going on?"

"Bastard!" The shrill voice of Amy Marshall broke through the din. "It was him! They're arresting him!"

"What?" Casey gasped. Spotting a guy turning and running from the crowd. Casey grabbed his arm and pulled, not caring that she was probably hurting him. "What's going on?" she demanded.

The red-headed boy sputtered in fear, looking up at Casey with wide eyes. "Tinker," Emily snapped. "What's happening out there?"

"D-Derek Venturi just got arrested," Tinker said. "They're taking him out to the car."

"_What?"_ Casey's grip on Tinker's arm tightened, and he let out a whimper. "For what?"

"For Max! They're saying he killed Max!" Tinker squeaked. "They found something in his locker, I dunno!"

Casey released him, eyes narrowing. "Sally," she hissed.

"What?"

"I've gotta go," Casey said, turning on her heel and tearing out of the cafeteria without another word.

Emily tore after Casey, leaving Tinker sputtering behind her. "Casey! Case, wait!" She ran smack dab into her boyfriend, entering as she was exiting. "Shel! Oh crap, something's going down, babe."

"I know, Derek just got arrested," Sheldon said, eyes wide. "It was so awesome. They handcuffed him and everything."

Emily frowned. "We have to follow Casey. I think she's gonna do something stupid."

"What?" Sheldon jogged after his girlfriend, confused. "Why are we following her, then?"

"Because she's our friend!"

"We've known her for a day!" Emily growled and flashed him her 'danger' face. "Fine, okay. Following."

--

"PAUL!"

Paul jerked and spilled his coffee down the front of his shirt. "What? Ouch, ow! What?!"

Casey slammed the door shut behind her. "I need weapons."

"Weap – what?"

"They arrested Derek!" Paul spilled the rest of his coffee. "Sally and the Mayor are behind it. So I need weapons."

"Casey you – you can't just _attack_ the mayor," Paul sputtered, wiping at his shirtfront uselessly.

"Paul, they _arrested_ Derek," Casey said impatiently. "For that kid's murder yesterday. And I fought Sally last night. I can't let them get away with it – what'll happen to Marti? She doesn't deserve this – and neither does Derek."

"So – so you've accepted your destiny and you – "

"Yeah, I'm the Slayer, I'm the Wonder Woman of vampires, yadda yadda. You're a big Watcher guy, right? You must have weapons."

Paul blinked and promptly decided to stop thinking. "They're in the library," he said with a sigh.

Casey paused. "You keep your weapons in the library?"

Paul shrugged. "No one ever goes in there."

--

"Play nice, Derry." Sally trailed her fingers down the bars of the jail cell, smirking into the darkness. "Maybe we'll play later if you behave."

"Wow, sounds fun, but I'm really not into necrophilia," Derek replied. He was sitting on the cot, glaring at the deadly blonde, arms crossed across his chest.

"Aw, you used to be so much more fun."

"That was when you were _alive,_ you psycho. I like my girls with, you know, a pulse."

Sally smirked. "But you go for Slayers, then?"

Derek scoffed. "You guys have no idea what you're getting into with her."

"A girl," Sally hissed. "With matching boots. You think that preppy little slip of a thing can defeat _me?_"

"When was the last time you came up against a Slayer's boots, Sal?" Derek asked. "Like I said. You're out of your league."

Sally shook her head. "Tsk, tsk. Silly boy."

A shriek echoed into the small cell and Derek tensed. "Sally – "

"Smerek?"

Derek shot up from his seat and was at the bars in a second, lunging for Sally's throat. She backed away, laughing in delight. "I told you, we'll play _later._"

A vampire came into view, Marti in its arms. "Smerek?" She peered into the cell, squinting. "Why are you in a cage?"

"Marti – " Derek's voice broke. "Marti, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

"Aw, family bonding." Sally wiped away a fake tear.

"Smerek – " Marti's voice was shaky. "This mean guy picked me up from school and he wouldn't let me talk to you and – and I wanna go _home._"

"Everything's gonna be okay, Smarti," Derek repeated. "I promise."

"Enough," Sally said, voice clipped.

The vampire smirked and took Marti back down the hallway, ignoring her cries for her brother. "Smarti, just be brave, okay? I'm gonna fix it, everything's gonna be fine!" Derek closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the metal bars. "You _bitch._"

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"I'm going to kill you," Derek vowed. "I'm going to rip your head off and watch as you blow away."

"Promises, promises," Sally sang, laughing. "We'll wait until your precious Slayer gets here, and we'll see who'll do the ripping."

Sally sauntered out of the room, letting the door fall shut on Derek's cries of rage.

--

"You have a plan, right?"

"Um." Casey looked over at Paul. "Break in, hit stuff. Sound good?"

Paul sighed mournfully. "And my mother wanted me to be a doctor." He pulled up next to the sheriff's station, pulling the car into park forcefully. He reached into the backseat and pulled out a laptop, tapping a few keys and warming it up.

"Um, hi. You can check the latest Nip/Tuck spoilers another time, Paul."

He shot her a dry look. "I'm good with computers," he said simply. Casey opened her mouth to speak again but was shushed.

A few minutes of tapping later, a fire alarm shattered the silence, followed quickly by several drenched deputies scampering out of the station. Casey grinned. "You _are_ good with computers."

Paul shrugged. "Back door?"

"Right behind ya."

--

"This is a bad idea," Sheldon hissed. Emily shushed him. "Oh my God," he squeaked. "Look at that knife. That's a really big knife."

Emily's eyes widened. "Whoa. Look at her go."

"She's like a spy, or something." Sheldon pulled at his collar. "Do you hear something?"

"I hear your geeky butt hitting the pavement if you don't shut up," Emily snapped.

"I think it's the Man," Sheldon whispered fearfully. "This is the wrong place to be."

"Sheldon, you're white, deal with it," Emily replied. "What are they gonna do, waltz right in there and waltz right back out?" They kept their eyes on Paul and Casey, watching as Casey shattered a glass window with her elbow, reaching in and popping open the back door. "I guess they are."

"What are they _doing?_" Sheldon whispered fiercely. "That's gotta be illegal – accompanying a minor into the scene of a crime or…whatever. He's so fired."

"Shel," Emily interrupted. "Who's that?"

Three large, bulky figures, dressed in large coats, sunglasses and huge hats, darted from a car parked in the parking lot and raced inside the station. Emily blinked, shaking her head slightly. She could've sworn she saw…_steam_ coming from one of them.

"Maybe they're Derek, Casey and Paul's cohorts," Sheldon said.

"Sheldon, Casey's the good guy."

"How do you know?"

"I just do!"

Sheldon crossed his arms. "I'm not letting you go in there, don't even think about it."

"Why not!?" Emily scowled at him. "They could need our help!"

"And what are we supposed to do? Yell at them?" Sheldon rose an eyebrow at her. "It's not like we could do anything."

"You're such a pessimist," Emily said sulkily.

"Hey! I am usually very optimistic when the situation involves non-life-threatening things!"

"I'm going in there," Emily said heatedly. "And I'm going to help them, whatever they're doing. You can join me if you want."

"Please, do." The couple swiveled around at the voice, eyes widening at a large man standing in the shadows of the trees that Emily and Sheldon were hiding behind. "Don't let me stop you. In fact, why don't I help you in?" The man reached out and grabbed Emily's arm, eliciting a squeak from the girl.

"Hey!" Sheldon frowned, taking a step forward. The man reached for him as well and received a punch to the stomach for his trouble. The man gave a menacing growl and launched forward, only to be swung around by Sheldon, flying out into the sunlight and hitting the pavement.

Sheldon and Emily watched in awed horror as their mysterious attacker started writhing and screaming, clothes burning away as he erupted into flames. Finally, when only ashes remained where the man once lay, Sheldon turned to Emily. "I told you I was a black belt," he said.

Emily's expression was set. "That's it. We're going in. You wanna argue now?" Sheldon shrugged, face pale. "Great. Come on."

--

"Hey, what are you – " Poof.

Casey grinned, waving away the remains of the vampire dust. "Easy, right? Worst part is all the grimy dusty stuff left over."

Paul shook his head, clutching his laptop to his chest. "I don't know whether to congratulate you or medicate you."

Casey shrugged, moving to an open ledger on the desk. "Says here that Derek's in cell four. Where's cell four?"

"Through there," Paul said immediately, pointing through a set of double glass doors. Casey looked at him skeptically. "What? I took a tour once!"

"Uh huh," Casey replied, moving through the small office, heading for the doors. "Let's not waste anymore time."

They moved through the doors, which opened up into a row of cells. Casey grimaced as shouts rose up from various people imprisoned in the cells, the obscenities and insults echoing through the hallway.

"Charming," Paul commented.

"No worse than the boy's locker room," Casey said with a deep breath. They hurried quickly down the hall and through the door at the end, which led to Derek's cell, in a private room. Casey immediately went straight up to the bars, peering through the darkness. "Derek?"

"Casey?"

She let out a breath of relief. "Are you okay? We came as soon as we could."

Derek stepped forward into the emergency light, the only source from the power outage Paul had implemented. Casey noted that he was soaking wet from the sprinklers, as well. "This was you?" he asked, indicating himself.

"Paul, actually," Casey replied.

Paul stepped forward. "Hey, kid. How're you doin?"

Derek grimaced. "Shitty. They've got Marti," he said urgently.

"What?" Casey asked, stricken.

Paul glanced back down the hallway. "We've gotta hurry. The sprinklers are off, the cops will be back in soon."

"Okay." Casey handed her sword to Paul and nodded. "Step back." She aimed a high kick at the lock, smiling in triumph as the mechanism shattered, allowing her to swing the cell door open. "Like pie."

"Wow," Derek said. "That was…really hot."

"Really?" Casey grinned. Their eyes connected, both freezing in place momentarily.

"Children," Paul interrupted. "Under the clock, here." Paul held out Casey's sword gingerly, dangling from two fingers. "Take this."

Casey rolled her eyes and took the sword back, grabbing Derek's hand. "C'mon. You'll get Marti back, and I'll kick Sally's slutty butt in the process."

Paul moved to open the door to the main cells again, only to be hit in the forehead by the already swinging door. "Ow! Son of a motherboard!"

"Aha! Take _that_, evil minion of Lucifer!"

"Sheldon?" Casey exclaimed incredulously.

Emily came through, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, who'd struck a karate pose in the doorway. "Great job, Sheldon, you conquered our guidance counselor."

"That really hurt," Paul said, muffled by the hand covering his nose. "I think I'm bleeding."

"Oh." Sheldon stood up straight. "Sorry. I thought you were evil."

"What are you guys _doing _here?" Casey asked. "No, don't answer. We have to go."

"That way?" Emily laughed nervously. "Uh, wouldn't be good. There are cops out there."

"We barely got in before they saw us," Sheldon said, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Great," Casey groaned.

"There's a back way," Derek said. "Sally and her…lackeys, whatever. They left that way." Derek pointed to the opposite way that they'd came in, a large metal door.

"Probably an alleyway or something," Casey commented.

A loud banging echoed through the small room, and everyone jumped on cue. "Open up! This is the police, and you're trespassing on state grounds!"

"Crap," Casey hissed. "Block the door!" Emily, Sheldon and Paul leaned against the large door, just as the doorknob started to jiggle.

Emily grimaced. "I'm guessing that the cops don't know about the weird flamey guys."

"Weird flamey guys?" Paul repeated.

Casey's expression cleared. "You fought a vampire."

"Vampires?" Sheldon's eyes widened. "Oh. Well…actually, that explains a lot."

Emily nodded, brow furrowed. "What are you guys, the vamp police then?" she asked Casey.

Casey shrugged. "Kinda. And we – " she indicated herself, Derek and Paul – "need to get outta here _now_ if we're gonna stop something very bad happening to a very sweet little girl."

Emily shrugged, looking over at Sheldon. "Okay, you guys go out the back. Sheldon and I will handle this."

"We will?" Sheldon squeaked.

"Oh. _Oh._" Derek raised his eyebrows. "You guys don't have to – "

The door rattled as it was pounded on again. Emily huffed. "Just go! You can thank us later!"

Casey shrugged and grabbed Derek's arm, pushing through the large metal door to the alley. Holding it open, she stuck her head back in and hissed at Paul, "come on!"

Paul backed away from the door, grinning at Emily and Sheldon. "This will _so_ be counted as extra credit."

Emily rolled her eyes, waiting until Paul was out of the door before nodding to Sheldon and stepping back, watching in amusement as several police officers burst through and collapsed onto the floor, thrown by the loss of weight on the doors.

"Um, hi," she said nervously. "Hey…this isn't where I parked my car!"

--

"Where could they be?" Casey asked, curled up in the front seat of Paul's car. "Do you know where Sally's home base is?"

Derek leaned up between the front seats from the back. "The Mayor lives at the mansion at the edge of town," he said. "But I've never seen Sally there. When she was human she lived with her aunt here in town."

"They'll want you to know where they are," Paul said. "The Sinclairs are show-offs. Wherever they went, it'll be someplace public."

The three were silent for a moment, before Casey groaned. "You've gotta be kidding."

"What?"

A distant scream caught the trio's attention and Paul rolled his eyes. "I'm never going to escape that school," he said, turning the wheel.

As the high school came into view, Casey peered out of the windshield worriedly. "It's getting dark," she said. "Another half hour and it'll be a free-for-all."

"At least most of the kids have gone home by now," Derek pointed out. "Right now it's just…hockey practice. If they're even holding it tonight."

"They've cancelled most extracurriculars after Max Cahill's death," Paul offered. "Though…" he trailed off.

"What?" Casey asked warily.

"The cheerleading squad is planning some thing for the assembly tomorrow, for Max," Paul said. "They're probably practicing late."

Another distant scream echoed from the high school, and Casey saw several girls running from the building. "Drive faster," she said. Paul stepped on the gas.

--

"Omigod!"

Kendra Mason rolled her eyes, slamming her car door shut. "Jeez, I know I'm late, you don't have to make a federal case out it."

Amy Marshall shook her head, face pale and frantic. "There – in – "

Kendra rolled her eyes. "What? English, Amy."

A man jumped out of seemingly nowhere, snarling. Both girls screamed, scrabbling to get inside the car. Kendra got into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. She looked over and saw Amy struggling and scoffed. She pulled the other girl in by her shirt and slammed the passenger's door shut moments before the creature reached the door.

Locking the car, Kendra glared out through the windshield, dusk descending and coloring everything in shades of blue. "What the hell are those things?"

Amy shook her head, babbling nonsensically.

Kendra rolled her eyes. "Lotta help you are." Whatever the thing that attacked them was was circling the car, sharp nails scraping at the windows, sending shivers down Kendra's spine.

Amy gave another scream, pointing behind her, out of the back windshield. Kendra turned to look and saw dozens more of the creatures coming towards the school, zeroing in on the car holding the two cheerleaders.

"Okay, then," Kendra said. "This would not be a good place to be." She clenched her jaw and turned the car on, throwing it into drive. "Hold on, Amy."

--

"Whoa!" Casey grabbed the door handle, pressed back in her seat. "Go Paul!"

Paul laughed, a little high-pitched. "I killed it, right?"

Derek looked behind them, seeing dust floating through the air. "Um, yeah. It's dead, alright."

"Bad _ass,_ Paul," Casey said.

"I'm very impressed," Derek added.

"Don't thank me yet." Paul screeched the car to a halt, mere feet away from a line of vampires, lining up and growling. "Ideas?"

"Um," Casey replied.

All of a sudden, headlights pierced the dusk and a red Ford Corolla barreled through the line of vampires and drove straight through the front doors of the school, disappearing into the hallways.

"Uh, that seemed to work," Derek said.

--

"You're _mean!"_

Sally rolled her eyes, playing with her hair in the small hand mirror she held. "Would someone shut that kid up?"

Marti stomped her foot. "No one tells me to shut up except Smerek!"

Sally growled and flashed her fangs at the girl. "Shut. Up."

Marti crossed her arms. "Is that supposed to be scary? I've eaten scarier stuff."

Sally glared at the girl, who smirked back at her. "Boss?"

"What?" she snapped, whirling around to glare at a vampire. "What do you want?"

"They're here," he replied.

"Ugh. Fine."

"Who's here? Smerek's here? I _told _you that he'd come and get me, and you just wait, cuz he's gonna kick your butt, too! You'll be sorry!"

Sally rubbed her temples. "Someone bring me an Advil!"

--

"Plan, anyone?"

Derek closed his eyes briefly, hearing Marti's muffled voice from inside the cafeteria. The hallway was dark and silent, he, Casey and Paul ducking behind the car, parked bluntly in the hall of the school. "How about we go in there and get my sister?"

"We need some kind of plan," Casey whispered. "We can't just burst in."

"Funny, that's what you did at the police station," Paul said.

"Do we have to get _technical?_" A vampire exited the cafeteria at that moment, stopping short at the sight of the trio in the hallway. Casey jumped up. "Oh my God, it's a big sword!" she mocked, swinging the blade before the creature could blink.

"Whoa." Derek grinned. "You just cut that guy's head off."

"The bursting in should happen about now," Casey said.

"Right."

--

Sally smirked, crossing her arms across her chest. "What have we here?"

Kendra glared, held back by her arms by a thin vampire with after-grave acne. "What is this, some kind of Heathers reenactment?" She scoffed. "News flash, that movie _sucked._"

Sally ran a fingernail down the cheerleader's nose. "Such pretty sugar, clear and sweet."

Kendra eyed the girl. "Oookay, then, psycho. Why don't you let the sugar go?"

Marti, imprisoned by another vampire in the corner, spoke up. "That lady's crazy," she told Kendra helpfully.

"I'm getting that," the teenager replied.

A slow smile stretched over Sally's face, which quickly fell as the cafeteria doors burst open. "Would someone please take care of that?"

Kendra took the opportunity to stomp on the instep of her captor's foot, breaking free of the grasp. She immediately ran over to the vampire holding Marti. "Hey," she said, snapping the vamp in the knee with her high heel. Howling in pain, the vampire dropped Marti to the ground, and the little girl instantly sprung into Kendra's arms. "Thank you, Jimmy Choo!"

"You again!" Sally called. "Finally. I was getting a little bored."

Casey pulled back as her opponent crumbled to dust, turning to face Sally. "You and I," she said. "Unfinished business."

"Oh," Sally pouted. "I was hoping we'd be best friends."

"Sorry. Position is reserved for a sane person." Sally smirked and lunged, blocked by a swipe of Casey's sword, tearing a hole in Sally's shirt and scraping red down the side of her torso. "Whoops. Did I do that?"

Kendra watched, eyebrows raised, as Casey and Sally launched into full-out combat, matching strike for strike. "Whoa. Is that the new girl?"

"Casey," Marti supplied helpfully.

"You're dead." Kendra whirled around at the voice, seeing the vampire from earlier climbing up from the floor.

"Um. Sorry?" Kendra tried, slowly backing up. "For the kicking thing, I mean. I do that sometimes, it's like my thing."

"Hand over the girl," the vampire growled.

"No can do," Kendra replied, as Marti's arms tightened around her neck. "It's another thing of mine, you know. Not letting creepy fangy things get ahold of little girls."

"Marti," Marti chimed in, again trying to help. "And that's Derek."

"What? Where?"

The slowly approaching vampire suddenly stopped dead in its tracks, looking down to his chest to see the tip of a stake poking out. "What the fu – "

Derek stepped forward, waving the dust away from his face. "Hey, Smarti."

"Derek!" Marti reached out her hands for her brother. Derek moved forward and took the girl from Kendra, hugging her tightly. "I knew you'd come."

"I promised, didn't I?" He smiled at Kendra, who smiled back, a little tremulously. "Come on, you two. Let's get outta here and let the professionals do the work, eh?"

Kendra's face suddenly drained of color. "Um, I don't think that's gonna be possible."

Derek turned around, only to be faced with about six vampires, all dressed in various states of funereal clothing. "Oh great," he groaned.

"What are these things?" Kendra demanded.

A vampire stepped forward, fangs glistening in the florescent lights. "What do you think they are?" Derek replied.

"Okay, better question," Kendra replied nervously, backing up. "How do we get rid of them?"

Derek put Marti on the ground, one hand on the girl's head. "Hide," he ordered. Marti nodded and scurried off underneath the tables, crawling on her knees. He handed a small knife to Kendra, nodding towards the advancing creatures. "You've seen _Dawn of the Dead,_ right?"

Kendra gripped the knife, hands trembling. "Right. Got it."

--

"_Bitch._"

Casey stepped back, surveying the large wound in Sally's leg with triumph. "Sorry, what did you say? I was too busy owning you to hear."

Sally snarled and launched for Casey's leg, propelling the brunette to the ground. The sword skittered away on the ceramic floor, out of Casey's reach.

"Sorry, what'd you say?" Sally repeated. "Wait, I don't care."

Casey rammed her hand upward, catching Sally's nose with heel of her palm. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I know how much you would've paid for that."

Sally growled and grabbed Casey's shoulders, slamming her head against the floor. "You are such a nuisance," the blonde growled. "I should've killed you days ago."

Stars dancing in her eyes, Casey struggled to focus on the figure of Sally above her. "I've only been here for two days, idiot," she muttered, gritting her teeth.

Gripping Sally's waist with her legs, she flipped them both over with all her might, sending Sally crashing backwards into a table and giving herself an opportunity to scoot away. She crawled toward the sword, head spinning, feeling blood seeping into one of her eyes, obscuring her vision further.

A scream reached her ears and she swung to look at the other side of the cafeteria. Derek and a blonde girl were surrounded by vampires, barely managing to stay afloat. The origin of the scream, Marti, was backed beneath a table, scrambling to keep away from a vampire, reaching for her legs. "No," Casey managed, throat choked.

A grating laugh floated up from behind her and she felt her ankle seized by a bony hand. "Some Slayer," scoffed Sally, dragging the smaller girl towards her. "Really, I don't know why Daddy's all worried about you."

"I really hope you mean Daddy in the literal, Mayor sense," Casey said through gritted teeth. "I really don't wanna know about any sugar daddies you've got hidden around town."

Sally growled and captured Casey's legs in a bruising grip, pulling her down towards her. "Come to Sally," she taunted.

Casey scrambled behind her for the sword, unable to capture it in her grip. "Shit," she cursed. She felt fatigue creeping up on her as Sally dragged her closer and she squirmed away from the blonde's hands, trying to escape her grip.

"Where's your quip now?"

Casey glared up at the blonde vampire. "Why don't we ask Paul?" she bit out.

--

Kendra screamed, backed up against a table. She kicked at the vampire gunning for her neck, heels sinking into her attacker's stomach. "This is really not how I pictured my night going!" Her attacker exploded into dust and the cheerleader caught sight of Derek peeling away to defend himself against another vampire. "Thanks," she called out breathlessly, not sure if he could hear her or not.

"Kendra?"

Kendra turned, knife raised, only to swiftly lower it again. "Amy!"

Amy Marshall stood in her cheerleader's uniform, head bloody and disheveled, but otherwise looking fine. "Kendra," she said, oddly calmly.

"You disappeared right after we got out of the car!" Kendra exclaimed. "What happened to you?"

"You know," Amy said, again in that calm voice. "Something wonderful."

Kendra's frowned in confusion. "What?"

Amy's face suddenly twisted, brow raising into ugly bumps and mouth widening to accommodate deadly sharp fangs. "Like I said," Vamp-Amy lisped. "Something wonderful."

Kendra stared at her incredulously for another second. "You've gotta be kidding." Rolling her eyes, Kendra stabbed the girl in the neck, watching as she fell to the ground. "Never liked you anyway."

"Kendra! Get Marti!"

Kendra whirled around to see Derek struggling with two bulky-looking creatures, then turned to see Marti scrambling away from a vampire, trying to reach the girl underneath a table. "Hey!" she called. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The vampire turned and shrugged, smirking. "You all taste the same to me." He started advancing towards Kendra.

"Oh," Kendra said, nervously, backing up. "Well, okay. This would be a nice time for a chandelier to fall on you or something."

Suddenly, Kendra felt herself seized from behind. She swiveled her head to see Amy's twisted face over her shoulder. "That wasn't nice," Amy snarled, blood flowing from the wound on her neck and over onto Kendra's shoulder.

"God," Kendra managed, struggling to escape Amy's grip, to no avail. "This sucks."

"Casey!" Derek grunted as he was thrown into a table, stars dancing across his vision. "Now would be a nice time for plan B!" He turned to see Casey pinned to the ground by Sally, blood smearing the floor around the fighting girls. "Casey!"

Casey landed a right hook to Sally's jaw, scrambling away as Sally was propelled backwards and her weight thrown off of Casey partially. Instead of heading backwards for the sword, Casey pulled herself up and staggered to the wall, pulling the fire alarm with a wild grope of her arm.

A shrill bell immediately echoed through the school and the sprinklers turned on with a sputter, water sprinkling down onto the cafeteria.

Sally laughed. "This is your big plan?" she asked incredulously. "Oh wow. Water. How scared am I?" She mocked.

Casey was breathing heavily, holding herself up by the wall. "Well," she said slowly, eyes on Sally's shoulder. "It's been a really shitty day," she said. A smirk spread across her face. "But I get the feeling that yours will end up being even worse."

Sally frowned, feeling a small stinging sensation. She turned to look at herself, seeing steam rising from her arms, little tendrils of smoke rising up from where the droplets were hitting her skin. "What – "

"Isn't it great to be in a school where the guidance counselor is a Watcher?" Casey replied. "He's got access to all the fun inside parts. Such as the sprinkler system, for instance."

"Holy water," Sally gasped in horror, looking upwards. The sprinklers were gaining in ferocity, water chugging out faster and faster. "Holy water!" she screamed, running for the doors, flesh already burning away.

Casey winced, running towards the other side of the cafeteria as the vampires in the room stopped in their tracks, screaming in agony. "Marti!" she yelled. "Marti, come here, honey!"

Marti scrambled out from the table, launching herself into Casey's arms. She buried her face in the brunette's neck, trembling. "What's going on? Where's Derek and the other girl? I – what – "

"It's okay," Casey soothed. She ducked down, shielding Marti from the water partially, keeping Marti from looking at the vampires, all burning away into dust.

Waiting until the only sounds in the room were of the water hitting the ceramic tile of the floor, Casey slowly stood up, Marti in her arms. "Derek?" Seeing Derek on a table, Casey raced over, swinging Marti to the floor. "Derek?" His eyes were closed, blood and dust matted in his hair and clothes. She leaned down and laid a hand against his cheek, rubbing his jaw. "Derek, it's over. Wake up."

"What – what happened?" Kendra staggered over. "Oh. Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Casey murmured. "Are you?"

"I think so," Kendra replied. She reached down and hugged Marti, who was staring up at her brother tearfully.

"Derek," Casey said loudly. "Come on, you asshole. Your sister's here. Wake up." She turned Derek's head gingerly, seeing a cut above his right eye. She frowned and took off the soaked long-sleeved shirt she wore, leaving the tank top on underneath. Wadding it up in a ball, she squeezed the water from it onto Derek's face.

Derek suddenly sputtered, coughing. Casey gave a sigh of relief, helping him sit up. "Thank God," Kendra said, blinking through the water soaking her hair.

"Smerek!" Marti cried joyfully.

Derek clutched Casey's shoulders, grimacing as he stood up from the table. "Marti," he said, voice infused with relief. Marti launched forward and grabbed his legs, causing him to wince. "Whoa, easy, easy."

"Careful, Marti," Casey said, laughing in pure relief. "Jeez." She laughed again, looking up at the sprinklers on the ceiling, still soaking the small group with water. "I'm never gonna be able to wear this shirt again." She looked down at her light blue tank top, which was now stained brown in places from the sweater that she'd been wearing before.

"Okay, so those things are dead, right?" Kendra asked. "I mean, those creepy fangy things, and Amy? They're not coming back?"

"Amy?" Casey asked, then shook it off. "Oh yeah. They're all dead." She pointed to the sprinklers. "Paul rigged this up. Holy water makes them go 'poof.'"

Kendra nodded with conviction. "I'm Kendra, by the way," she said.

"Casey." She shook the blonde's hand. "Uh, thanks for the help?"

Kendra scoffed. "Right. Ditto?"

Paul burst through the doors of the cafeteria frantically, arms waving. "Did it work? Did it work?"

Casey giggled. "Yeah, it worked, Paul."

Paul sagged against the doorway. "Thank God."

"Nice job," Derek said.

"I have a way with sprinklers," Paul replied.

Casey turned to Derek, slipping an arm around his waist. "Come on, let's get you outta here. You're gonna get sick."

"Do you ever stop taking care of people?" Derek asked, voice hoarse, but amused.

"Not really."

Marti gripped Derek's shirt, walking by his side. "Did you see me, Smerek? I hid under that table while you fought those mean guys."

"I did see you, Marti. You were so brave." Derek laid a hand on Marti's neck affectionately, bringing her in closer to his side. "I'm so proud of you."

Kendra twisted her hair, squeezing the water out of it. "So what now?" she asked, struggling to keep up with the group in her high heels. "Like…how are we gonna explain this to everyone?"

Casey shrugged, looking over at Paul. "Uh…rats?"

Paul tilted his head. "It's a shame," he said slowly. "That the city of London is so infested with gang activity." Casey raised an eyebrow. "I mean, look at this school! They're probably hopped up on PCP or something, and meanwhile Derek was set up to take the fall while they went on a free for all throughout the town."

Derek smirked. "Weak, Paul."

Paul shrugged. "Well, it worked in San Diego."

Casey frowned. "The Council will send someone in, right?" She looked up at Derek worriedly. "I mean, Derek's not gonna take the blame for this."

"Hardly. They usually don't like to leave their employees to rot in jail." Paul paused. "Well, most of the time they don't."

"You work for the Council?" Casey asked, looking up at Derek, who raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, right. You told me that."

"Uh, I don't know what the Council is, but I do know that I'd really like to get out of these clothes," Kendra piped up. "And is anyone else freaking _starving?_"

Derek shrugged. "I could eat. Marti?"

Marti clapped her hands. "Pancakes!"

Paul sighed. "We'll take my car. I'm pretty sure it'll still run." He turned and looked at Casey over his shoulder. "We still have Mayor Sinclair to deal with, you know. He's gonna be after you now, especially since you killed Sally."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Well, he'll have to dig me up first, because my mom's gonna murder me." Paul chuckled and shook his head.

As the group started down the hallway, towards Paul's car, Casey held back behind, walking slowly with Derek and Marti. "So," Derek said. "Welcome to London."

She grinned. "Thanks." She paused. "Your job – with the Council. You're not under any…fraternization rules or anything, are you?"

Derek pursed his lips. "Um. I don't think so?"

"Great." She smiled. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Derek grinned. "We're all about to have dinner," he pointed out.

"Okay," Casey replied. "Then…you wanna patrol with me sometime, then? After you're better, of course."

"Fight stuff? With you?" Casey nodded. "I'm so there."

She squeezed his waist. "Awesome."

Marti giggled, walking between them. "Old people are funny," she said to herself.

--

"Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't think they forgot about us, do you?"

"…no, Sheldon. We went to jail for them. They wouldn't forget."

"Okay."

…

"Em?"

"What, Sheldon?"

"I think they forgot about us."

…

"Dammit."

**FIN**


	4. Five Places

**Drabble, 300 words or so. Note the rating change.**

* * *

**Five places Derek and Casey have never had sex (Or, five fantasies that Derek will never admit to, ever).**

1. In the bathroom, after everyone has fallen asleep, with the door unlocked so that anyone could walk in on them at _any time_; he sits on the turned-down toilet seat as she moves over him, hands braced on the walls on either side of her, head thrown back, and he barely manages to clap his hand over her mouth before she screams out his name.

2. On the kitchen counter, her head banging against the cupboards and her ankles locked around his back. Skirt hiked up around her waist, one sandal still dangling from her left foot and the dirty dishes still half-washed in the sink. His shirt is wet from where she'd flipped water at him, and on the floor, a lonely sponge leaks dish soap onto the linoleum.

3. At school, on the floor of the cafeteria, her on top, with everyone watching…and no, he doesn't know why and he'd rather not think about it, so don't ask.

4. In the backseat of the Prince, her head falling down over the corner of the seat, her calves on his shoulders and the sound of the rain hitting the top of the car like pebbles against glass. He whispers a long line of dirty words into her ear and doesn't stop when she yells out _no_, because he knows she doesn't mean it.

5. In an apartment, Toronto, maybe, or New York, or it doesn't matter, really, because it's _their_ bed, his and hers, and the sheets always smell like her perfume, no matter how many times they wash them. Some nights he's rough, leaving hand-shaped bruises on her hips, and other times he goes so slow that she can barely stand it. But no matter how long it lasts or how intense their moods are, it is always _her_ and _him_ and that's all he needs to know.


	5. Crossover: Roswell I

**Roswell, Ontario.**

"She's doing it again," Sally hissed.

Derek Venturi rolled his eyes, preoccupied with finishing the final count from the tip jar of the night. "Whatever you say," he replied flippantly, stacking the meager pile of bills on the counter. "Eighteen bucks? That's it? Christ, this job sucks."

Sally nudged him insistently. "Derek, that girl is _staring_ at you."

Sighing, Derek turned to face his girlfriend, a skeptical eyebrow raised to his hairline. "What girl?"

"That one." Sally motioned with her chin, then slapped him lightly on the arm when he turned to look. "Don't look at her!"

Derek scoffed and turned in the direction Sally had motioned, eyes lightening upon a brunette sitting in one of the back booths, deep in conversation with a tall, blonde boy. "Casey McDonald?"

"You know her name?" Sally's expression turned a bit suspicious. "What, did you used to date her or something?"

"No," Derek replied shortly, less than pleased with what her tone was implying. "We have Chemistry together. I don't know her." He turned back to look at the other girl, who looked completely absorbed in her conversation. "And she's not staring at me."

Sally crossed her arms. "Well she was. She comes in here all the time, but only when you're working, and she just, like, watches you."

"Wow. Somebody's paranoid." Derek shook his head, looking dismally at the pile of dollar bills on the counter. "How exactly are we supposed to split this up four ways? Mark already locked the register."

Sally nudged him, not easily dissuaded. "Derek, it's creepy. Does she do it at school, too?"

"How should I know?" Sally gave him a look. "What? I barely know her, she hangs out with that Sam kid all the time. She hardly talks to anybody else." He shrugged. "Maybe she has a crush on me."

"Wow, you're so modest."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time." And it wouldn't. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. It'd been a long shift, and the added pressure of working side by side with his less-than-cooperative girlfriend had only increased his overwhelming desire to escape the stifling atmosphere of Smellie Nellie's in favor of his own bed. Feeling himself dragging, he blinked rapidly and jerked himself alert, turning his attention back to the measly tips. The other two waiters had already left for the night, but Derek was still expected to set aside a share for them to pick up in the morning. "We'll just take four each and leave the difference for tomorrow. Sound good? Not that it matters much – I can't believe it's only eighteen bucks. People suck."

Sally ignored him, preoccupied with staring Casey down. "What are they still doing here, anyway? We're obviously about to close."

Derek glanced over at Casey and Sam, who looked to be arguing quietly. "Hey, if you wanna interrupt that to kick them out, feel free."

Sally huffed. "There's something about them. They give me the creeps."

"Let it go, Sal."

Sally turned back to him as if to reply, but whatever zinger she'd had to say was cut short by the sharp jingle of the bell over the front door. Turning to the entrance of the café, she addressed the newcomer with a sharp voice. "We're closing."

A tall man dressed in dark clothing stood in the entrance, hands stuffed in his pockets. Derek paused from where he was wiping down the counter, a bad feeling churning in his gut.

"Hey," Sally said again, when the man ignored her. "Did you hear me? We're _closing_."

"Sally," Derek interrupted. "Go finish up in the kitchen."

She bristled at his tone. "Excuse me?"

"Now." It wasn't often that he pulled rank on her, but he had a bad feeling. And he was almost always right when it came to those. Plus…she was being kind of a bitch, anyway.

Her lips flattened into a thin line. "Fine." He shot her a look and she rolled her eyes, turning and pushing past him, bumping him in the shoulder on the way.

The man watched Derek knowingly, moving around the edge of the counter so they were face to face. Derek's bad feeling increased. "Can I help you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice relatively normal. He eyed the couple in the back booth with his peripheral vision, praying that they'd stay put.

"Yeah, you can." The man pulled one hand out of his pocket, a long, threatening gleam of metal catching the light. "I'm gonna need all the money in the register."

Derek's breath caught and he took a step back voluntarily. Swallowing thickly, he held up one hand. "I don't have the key," he said, keeping his voice quiet. His mind flew to Sally, mere feet away in the kitchen, and the two in the back – oh God, don't look back, don't look back –

"Well, where is it?"

"The manager takes it with him every night," Derek said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl – Casey – rise from the table, her eyes glued on the man in black. _Sit the hell back down_, he thought. _What the fuck is she doing?_

The man was cursing wildly – his arm waving dangerously. Derek's eyes moved quickly between the gun and Casey's approaching form – what did she think she was doing? She could obviously see the gun – he wanted her to sit down, to go away, he wanted to see his sister –

Then there was a loud pop, like a door slamming shut, and suddenly he was staring at the ceiling. _What? _he thought. _Why am I lying down?_

"Derek," someone said.

_Who is that?_

Then – pain. Hot, searing pain, like a red-hot vice clamping down on his insides and twisting. He blinked, gasping for air because his lungs – he couldn't breathe, why couldn't he breathe? – and his vision of the ceiling was contracting, dimming –

"Derek," the voice said again, more insistently. A palm came to rest on his cheek, another hand in his hair. "Derek, stay with me. You have to stay awake, please."

He blinked, fighting against the darkness. "Who – "

A face came into his sightline and he saw smudged lip gloss, brown hair. "It's gonna be okay, Derek."

He tried to reply but an intense wave of pain sent his head spinning again, his thoughts jumping like sparks on pavement. _What, who – oh my God, Marti. I wanna see Marti. Hurts – that guy, what – can't breathe – MartiMartiMarti –_

He dimly felt a pair of cool hands on his neck, his arms. His shirt was pulled open, buttons popping and smooth palms pressed insistently on his ribcage. He blinked, coming back to himself for a split second before crying out, a surge of energy spreading through him and expanding inside until every inch of his body was alive with electricity. He gasped, lungs filling with air, and then –

– a little girl, holding a small stuffed bear, watching through a stained, dirty window as the other children laughed and played in the sunshine, so sad, so goddamn lonely and –

"Derek! Oh my God!"

He jerked back to reality with a harsh jolt, shaking violently, both hot and cold at the same time. He glanced around wildly, mind swirling. He was lying on the floor, shirt open and chest covered in red – oh Jesus, _blood_ – and Casey McDonald was kneeling next to him, soaked in red, staring at him intently.

Dimly, he heard Sally call out again from the back of the restaurant. Casey glanced over her shoulder, then turned back, expression slightly panicked. Looking around wildly, she grabbed a bottle of ketchup from beneath the counter and smashed it against the floor, smearing it on Derek's chest and on her own clothes.

"You fell and hit your head, then broke the bottle of ketchup," she said urgently, leaning in so that her face was inches away from his.

"What?" He sat up, one hand moving to his forehead, the other moving to grope at his perfectly smooth, unharmed chest. "Wait – "

"You fell and spilled the ketchup, okay?" Her voice was bordering on frantic. "Don't say anything. _Please_."

He nodded dumbly, allowing her to help him to his feet, barely getting back upright before being attacked by Sally.

"Derek, oh my God, are you okay? I heard a shot and that guy, he had a fucking gun and I couldn't see you and I didn't know what happened – oh my God, what happened? Are you okay?"

"I – " He moved his head slightly to see around Sally's hair, watching Casey backing towards the door slowly, being pulled by her friend. "I fell," he finally said numbly. "I spilled the ketchup."

Sally pulled away, eyes searching him frantically. "Are you sure you're okay? Oh my God, that was so scary." She pulled him back into a hug again. "Oh my God," she repeated, clutching him tightly.

Eyes still locked on the exit that Casey and Sam had just departed through, Derek swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "I'm fine," he said. "Fine."

--

So Derek loved his family. He really does. He just finds them annoying sometimes. Well, most of the time.

"Are you _sure_ you're all right?"

"Mom. I'm okay." Derek choked back the sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue, not having the energy for a fight. "Just a little bump. And a ruined outfit."

Abby's mouth creased into a worried frown, her hands rubbing a pattern into Derek's back. "I don't want you closing at the restaurant anymore."

Derek sighed. "Mom…"

"No, Derek, you could've been killed," Abby said, eyes bright. _You have no idea_, he thought, stomach lurching. "And I've got half a mind to sue whatever idiot that left two teenagers alone with a full cash register at eleven o'clock at night."

"Mom, I've closed dozens of times before. So has Sally – and even Kim, and she's a couple years younger than me, even." He shook his head. "The guy was just some idiot looking for a quick score. The police said that he was probably using blanks."

"What if he wasn't?" Abby replied sharply. "What if – "

"Mom, shh," Derek admonished, shifting the sleeping form of his sister in his lap. "You're gonna wake Marti up."

Abby closed her mouth with a snap, obviously trying to control her emotions. "I still don't want you closing anymore. And I want you to start carrying some pepper spray or something."

Derek groaned. "Oh come on. Pepper spray? That's so girly, Mom."

Abby was unmoved. "Self-defense classes. Something. And no more work after dark."

"Mo-om…"

"Oh, Abby, lighten up on him." George walked into the room, carrying a can of Derek's favorite soda. Derek wasn't thirsty but he accepted the drink anyway, knowing that his father's way of showing his affection usually involved sugar and/or grease. "I, for one, am proud that Derek was able to keep his head in a situation like that. He even got Sally out of the line of fire." He ruffled his son's hair affectionately and Derek leaned into it, drawing comfort from the familiar action.

"Can't you take anything seriously?" Abby snapped. Tension snapped to life and stretched taut against the room, a silent battle of wills waged silently between the gazes of the two parents.

Derek shifted in his seat, holding Marti a little more tightly. More than used to the uncomfortable line that his family constantly walked at this point, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore it. Unfortunately, every time he closed his eyes, the face of Casey McDonald lurked behind his lids, causing the same hurricane of questions to spin into existence in his mind.

_I got shot. I know I did. So why am I not dead? I should be dead. I think he shot one of my lungs, that's why I couldn't breathe – but what did she do to me? She saved me. How did she save me – what was that little girl? Was that her? What the hell is going on?_

"We can talk about it in the morning," George said evenly, one hand placed protectively on Derek's shoulder. "Right now, we're all upset, and we – we just got really, really lucky." He squeezed, his voice wavering slightly. "So let's just be thankful and just…be together for awhile, all right?"

Abby nodded, tears springing to her eyes again. She laid one hand on Derek's leg and reclined back against the cushions, moving her gaze straight ahead to the blank television screen.

Derek sighed. _Yeah, like this isn't awkward_. His parents sat on either side of him, uncomfortably silent, each with one hand attached to him as if they were afraid he would float away. _Get out, Venturi. Get out now_.

Clearing his throat, Derek leaned forward slightly, enough to dislodge his father's hand. "Um, you guys, I'm kinda tired. I think I'm just gonna take Marti to bed and then hit the sack, okay?"

"Oh, of course you must be exhausted. Here, I'll take her – " Abby reached out but Derek recoiled, desperately needing to keep Marti close.

"No, no, I'll take her. It's fine." He stood, keeping Marti in his arms and backed towards the stairs. "Um. Goodnight."

"Derek, wait." Abby leapt up and wrapped her arms around Derek, Marti squished between their bodies. "I love you," she whispered fiercely.

Though he'd never admit it, Derek had always felt comforted whenever his mother said things like that in what he called her 'mama-bear' voice; it had always made him feel that much stronger with that unwavering support in his corner. Now, however, hearing it only made him feel tired.

"Love you too," he said shortly, pulling away as soon as he could.

After enduring another hug from his dad, he finally made it upstairs, not even bothering to take Marti to her own room. She'd just wake up halfway through the night and climb into bed with him anyway.

In fact, Marti hadn't slept in her own room for going on a year now, ever since the fighting between George and Abby had risen to alarming heights. He wasn't sure if they'd even noticed that the little girl wasn't sleeping in her own bed, nor that she'd been growing quieter and quieter whenever she wasn't around Derek. Which inevitably led to Derek spending almost every spare second with his sister in an attempt to keep her from turning completely to stone.

Frankly, he didn't care what they noticed or didn't notice anymore. He didn't mind spending time with Marti, and he certainly didn't mind being able to keep an eye on her at night. And if he had to pass up on overnighters with Sally, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. There was nothing in the world that was more important than Marti, and that was the end of it.

Lying her down on his bed gently, he choked up suddenly and violently, vicious thoughts of how Marti would've reacted had he truly been shot – which he _had_, he wasn't crazy. He'd been _shot_.

Biting his lip, he turned to his laundry basket where he'd stuffed his stained clothes. Picking up his shirt, he brought it to his nose and sniffed, recoiling slightly. Ketchup, and yes – blood. It was faint, but the coppery smell was there.

Shaking his head, he shook the shirt out, holding it by the shoulders. The button-up was torn slightly at the top – _where Casey'd ripped it_ – and it was stained dark red all down the front. The sides of it hung limply from his hands, a wilted version of what it'd once been.

Frowning, Derek caught sight of a small discrepancy on the left side, and he brought the shirt up to his face to take a closer look. Smoothing out the material, his blood froze in his veins as he realized that he was staring at a small, perfectly rounded bullet hole.

He dropped the shirt as it if was on fire. _I'm not crazy_, was his first thought. _What the fuck_? was his second.

Moving to the mirror that was attached to his door, he brought a shaky hand to his left ribcage. Taking deep breaths, he gathered the courage to lift his shirt up to his chin, smoothing his down his own unblemished skin. A flash of silver caught his attention and he focused on his chest in the mirror, jaw growing slack.

A delicate, silver hand print shimmered on his chest, reaching across his ribcage, the fingertips skimming the spot where his heart beat beneath his skin.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

"Derek?" The door opened without warning and Derek hastily pushed his shirt back down as Edwin pushed into his bedroom.

"Hey, Ed."

"Hey." Edwin frowned. "What were you doing?"

"Just…admiring myself," he said in a lame attempt at his usual smugness. It fell flat, though, and Edwin shifted his eyes to the ground, obviously uncomfortable. "So what's up?"

"I dunno." Edwin shrugged. "I just – " he broke off, then shrugged again, gaze glued to the floor.

Derek's stomach lurched again, thinking again of searing hot pain and slick blood on his hands. "You wanna…hang out for awhile?" he asked softly.

Edwin shuffled his feet, then nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his composure. "We could…play Babe Raider or something."

Edwin shrugged, moving to sit gingerly on the bed next to Marti. He looked down at the sleeping girl, mouth creased into a frown. "It was weird," he said after a moment, voice unusually soft. "Tonight. The cops called, and said there'd been like, a robbery, and that you were involved, and – it was just weird."

"Yeah." Derek swallowed and sank down into his desk chair. "God, tell me about it."

Edwin nodded, still not looking Derek in the eye. "So the guy just took the whole register?"

"I guess," Derek replied. "I didn't see. I hit my head, you know, so I was a little dizzy at first. I didn't see him leave."

Edwin nodded again. He had his 'thinking face' on, the expression he wore whenever he was trying to figure something out. "Sally said that he shot his gun?"

"Yeah, well – " Derek broke off, choosing his words carefully. His brother was a sharp kid. Lying to the police, his parents, whatever, but Edwin was a different story. "The cops told me he was probably using blanks. They couldn't find a bullet anywhere."

"And that's when you hit your head? When the gun went off?"

"…I guess." Derek shrugged. "Like I said, I was dizzy. I remember hearing it, but…"

Edwin nodded again. "Right." He shook his head. "It's just…weird, you know…" he trailed off. "Never mind." He sighed. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah." Derek swallowed thickly. "Me too."

--

"I can't _believe_ you did that."

Casey sighed, rubbing one of her temples tiredly. "I had no choice, Liz."

"Oh yes you did have a choice," Lizzie hissed, leaning over the table to get in her sister's face. "You could've, I dunno, called 911? Performed CPR? _Not_ used your powers and risked exposing us over some man-whore with a six pack?"

"Derek's not a man-whore," Casey replied, rolling her eyes. "And he would've died, Lizzie. I wasn't gonna sit there and watch it happen while I had the ability to stop it."

"He so is." Lizzie rolled her eyes. "And you're being dramatic."

"No, she's not," Sam jumped in. "He wouldn't have made it if Casey hadn't stepped in."

"And he's _not_ a man-whore!" Casey defended. "He dated around a lot when we were younger, but he's been with Sally since tenth grade."

"Whatever." Lizzie crossed her arms. "Like you don't have a crush on the guy."

Casey blushed. "That's beside the point."

"I don't know why you always have to go for the biggest cliché you can find, anyway," Lizzie continued. "The whole 'unpopular girl likes the big man on campus' thing is so overdone."

"Yeah, but I'm sure that the 'unpopular girl saves big man on campus's life' thing is still pretty novel," Sam replied.

"Speaking of," Lizzie said, "just what were you thinking, again? You know we're gonna have to go, now."

"No! We can't go now, Liz, Sam and I graduate in six months!" Casey said. "Look, it's not that big of a deal, okay? I'll talk to him – "

"No!" Lizzie cried, then glanced nervously around the café to see if anyone heard her. "No, Casey. You cannot – cannot! – talk to him about it. He already knows way too much. He's dangerous to us now!"

"So what are you gonna do, whack him?" Casey snapped. "I can't just ignore it. He's going to want to know what happened to him. He has a right to know!"

"Yeah, and we have a right not to get experimented on in some secret government lab," Lizzie replied.

"Guys," Sam interjected. "We don't even know what Derek knows yet."

"What do you mean we don't know?" Lizzie asked.

"I mean people deal with trauma in different ways." Sam shrugged. "He might have blocked it out. For all we know, he really does think that he fell and spilled a bottle of ketchup."

Lizzie frowned. "Well, let's hope so. For our sake." She glared at Casey, who glared right back.

"What would you have done if it'd been Jamie, Liz?"

"That's different!"

"How?"

"Well, I can't freakin' heal people, for one, so the option never would've been available!"

"_Guys_. Volume," Sam cut in.

Taking a deep breath, Casey closed her eyes briefly to collect herself. "Okay. Look, I know it wasn't the smartest move. But I had my reasons, and it's done now, so let's just move on. Okay?" She cast a pleading glance at Lizzie, who rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Oookay. Now, the first thing to do is not panic. Sam's right, we don't know where Derek's at right now – for all we know he might be clueless. So let me talk to him, feel things out and we'll go from there. Okay?"

"Fine." Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "But if it turns out that he does remember everything? We're so out of here."

"Liz, we can't just leave. We are still minors."

"So?" Lizzie smirked. "It's not like we couldn't get away."

"Well, you're the one that's always so paranoid about drawing attention," Sam said. "Now you wanna just up and take off? Not exactly the most subtle approach."

"Sam's right. We're living as humans – we are humans. We need to follow the law," Casey said. "And the law says that until we're eighteen, we're stuck with our guardians."

"Whatever. I hate being the youngest." Lizzie munched on a french fry sulkily.

"Puberty," Sam mock-whispered. Lizzie smiled sweetly and kicked him in the shin. "Ow!"

"I'm going for a refill," Lizzie said, grinning smugly at Sam. "Case, try not to bring anyone back to life while I'm gone, kay?"

Casey rolled her eyes as her sister stalked off. "She's not gonna let this go, _ever_."

"Probably not," Sam agreed. Sipping at his drink, he eyed his friend thoughtfully. "She…does have a point, though. If it'd been anyone else, you would've thought twice before healing them."

Casey fiddled with her napkin. "So? Is there something wrong with me actually caring for someone other than you two?"

"No." Sam sighed. "Yes. I don't know. It's just – scary. Because she's right. This could be the first step to a really, really terrifying future."

"I know." Casey groaned and let her head fall forward into her hands. "I just – I couldn't not save him, Sam. It was like I had to do it." She frowned. "I don't even know how to explain it – there was like this pull, this urge inside of me. I just _knew_ that he needed to live."

"Okay," Sam said slowly. They sat in contemplative silence for a moment. "Well," he finally said. "Derek…well, I don't trust Derek, and I don't know him. But I trust you. And…" he trailed off, shrugging. "Whatever happens, we'll be okay as long as we stick together. Family, right?"

"Right." Casey gave a lopsided smile and took Sam's hand in hers. "Family."

--

TBD.


	6. Crossover Roswell II

**Roswell, Ontario - Part Two**

--

Derek was a man on a mission. In-between panic attacks, anyway.

He'd seen Casey in the halls a total of four times now, walking and talking to Sam, her hair curled perfectly and her clothes matched and – just – like everything was normal! Like she hadn't done some sort of weird voodoo on him on Saturday night, turning everything he thought was true completely and totally upside down.

And, she was like…really pretty. He'd never noticed that about her before.

Leaning down, he splashed cold water on his face, trying to remember the game plan that he'd finally hammered out in the shower that morning. Step one – confirm that he wasn't losing his marbles. Step two – confirm that _she_ wasn't losing her marbles. Step three – demand – firmly! – to know just what the hell was going on, goddammit.

Well. It was a good game plan. He just forgot to add the 'actually talk to Casey without freaking out' step.

He checked his watch with a groan. Chemistry started in five minutes – he was gonna face her whether he was ready or not. He took a deep breath, turned towards the door, set his jaw, and promptly…chickened out, turning back to the sink.

"Damn it!" He looked his reflection in the eye. "You are Derek Venturi. Stop acting like a girl." He eyed the bathroom door in the mirror again and a wave of nausea washed over him. He moaned and leaned forward to press his forehead against the cool glass mirror.

He was such a pussy.

--

Casey leaned against a row of lockers, intently studying the door to the men's bathroom.

"You trying to set it on fire or what?"

Casey jumped slightly, hugging her binder to her chest. "Sam," she greeted, then sighed. "He's in there."

Sam leaned back next to her. "Oh?"

Casey smiled faintly. That's what she loved most about Sam – he wasn't really the most talkative person on earth, but somehow he always knew when someone needed to talk, and the things to say to get them to open up. Of course, that was partly because of his powers, but there was also a natural intuitiveness present in his personality. "I don't know what to do," she confessed.

"What do you want to do?" he countered.

"What do I _want?_" Casey laughed bitterly. "I want to go in there and tell him everything that I've always _imagined_ telling him. And I want him to be immediately okay with it and I want him to tell me that it's okay and that I'm not alone anymore and I want him to just – just touch me." Casey closed her eyes briefly. "Yeah. That's what I want the most. For him to reach out and hold me, like I'm actually real."

Sam sighed heavily. "Oh, Nutcase." He bumped her shoulder with his own, eliciting a small smile from her as a result of the childhood nickname. "I wish I knew what I could say."

"I know." Casey leaned her head back against the lockers. "I want him not to hate me."

Sam smiled. "Now that's just impossible." He tapped her nose.

She scrunched it up at him. "Go on. You're gonna be late."

"You're gonna be later," he replied. The bell rang then and he saluted. "Good luck."

"Thanks." She watched him walk off resignedly. _No more back up._

She turned back to stare at the door. "Now or never, McDonald," she told herself, glancing furtively up and down the hallway. Seeing no one, she took a fortifying breath and walked quickly to the men's bathroom, pushing inside before she could change her mind.

Derek was leaning over the sink, his head hanging down between his shoulders. At her entrance, he started slightly, raising his head high enough to catch sight of her in the mirror, at which point he immediately jumped back about a foot. "You! It – it's you. Casey. Hi."

"Hi, Derek." She turned and stuck the rubber stop beneath the door with her foot, kicking it in firmly. "We need to talk."

Derek nodded. His collar and parts of his hair were slightly damp and he looked…well, he looked freaked out. But at least he didn't seem angry. Or scared. Or nervous because she'd blocked the door. That was a start.

She took a breath, making sure to look him in the eye. "I'm sure you're…wondering about what happened. On Saturday, I mean." She instantly chastised herself – of _course_ he remembers what day it was, sheesh – but he was nodding, and looking her in the eye right back, so there was that.

"Yeah. I mean – what did you…do?" Derek put his hand to his ribs almost involuntarily. "I got shot. At least I think I did, I remember pain, and blood, and my shirt has this hole in it – " he shook his head. "And this – "

Without hesitation, he pulled his shirt up over his head, causing Casey to suck in a sharp breath. _Cripes, he's hot,_ she thought. Then she looked closer.

There, her handprint, splashed across his ribcage in bright silver. Eyes wide, she took a step forward and studied it closely, face open with wonder. "Whoa," she breathed.

Derek studied her, brow furrowed. "'Whoa'?" He repeated. "I thought you were supposed to have the answers."

"I – " she looked up at him sheepishly. "Well, I've sort of…never done that before."

"What?" He gestured to his chest. "Tattooed someone at random?"

"Well, yeah." She shrugged. "In the process of…healing them." She cracked a weak smile and attempted a joke, "I do moonlight at the tat parlor on weekends, though."

He didn't smile. "Healed," he repeated flatly.

"Yeah." She swallowed. "Um. Ta-da?"

"You – " he broke off and sighed. "How? How did you…"

"I'm sort of…not from around here," she said slowly. Suddenly unable to look him in the eye, she crossed her arms across her chest tightly, clutching her sides tightly.

"What do you mean…not from around here?" he asked warily. "Where are you from?"

"Well…" she shrugged and motioned to the ceiling.

"What?" He frowned. "North?"

"…um, I guess you could say that."

"Like…what, the North Pole?"

Casey grimaced. "A little higher. And maybe less North, and more…vertical."

Derek stared at her for a second before bursting into nervous laughter. "You're shitting me. Like…you're pranking me or something, right?" He sobered. "Right? Who put you up to it? Ralph?"

"It's not a prank, Derek," Casey said seriously. He stared at her, eyes squinted and closed off. "I swear."

"I – " He shook his head and laughed again. "You're not a fucking alien."

"Yes, I am."

He laughed again, stuttered and frantic. "You – oh. Oh my God." He staggered, falling against the sink. "You…"

"I…" Casey's heart was fluttering in her chest, and her hands itched to hug him or comfort him or _something,_ but she still wasn't sure if he was going to run away or attack her or whatever yet. "I realize that you need time to process this and everything, but I'm sort of obligated to impress upon you the need for, um, secrecy?" He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I mean, it's not just me. Or it's not just my secret. And it's serious, like really serious – like we could get captured or arrested or something, and thrown into some weird government jail, and we don't want that – obviously – and now I'm rambling…" she worried her lip. "But you can't tell anyone, okay? Ever. Not Ralph or Marti or Edwin or anyone – anyone at all. It would be really, really bad. Okay?"

He took another deep breath. "How do you know my sister's name?" he asked.

Casey stumbled a bit. "Um. What?"

"Marti. How do you know…I mean, you can't like, read my mind or something, can you?"

"No! God no!" She shook her head. "No, no. I just…I heal. I knew Marti's name because I volunteer at her daycare." She shrugged. "Also you, um. You come to this park that's nearby my house with her sometimes, and…you know, I overhear you guys playing, and…"

"You live near Kentwood Park?"

"Yeah," she said eagerly, then stopped, realizing what he'd be able to conclude from knowing that bit of information. "Um, yeah."

"Oh."

Casey's face burned. _Great, way to come off like a stalker and a trailer-park loser._

"Who's the little girl, then?"

She started slightly. "Huh?"

"The – " he took a breath and turned around, hopping up on the counter. "When you – you know, healed me or whatever – I got like, this flash of something. Like I could see this little girl, and she was watching some kids play outside of a window."

Casey stilled. "Um. A flash?"

"Yeah," he replied. "But…it wasn't just that I could see her, I could like…feel her? I dunno." He tilted his head slightly. "It felt lonely."

"Oh," she said. "That…that was me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, well. If it felt lonely then yeah, chances are that it was most likely me." He trailed his eyes up to her face, and she turned away, gazing at the floor. "It's – it's something else I can do. Make connections with people. I guess…I did it subconsciously, when I was healing you."

"Oh." He was silent a moment. "So you heal people, and you can do the Vulcan Mind Meld – " she snorted. "Is there anything else? Can you…turn water into wine? Fly?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "No. No flying or…anything Jesus-like at all. Sorry."

"Right." She could feel his eyes on her face, but couldn't bring herself to look at his expression. "So you could do this mind meld thing with anyone?"

"Um…I guess so. I've only ever tried it with Lizzie. And now you, I guess."

"Lizzie?"

"My sister." She cleared her throat. "She's, um. You know."

"Oh. Oh." He paused. "Are there…any more of…you?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, Sam." She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. "Lizzie, Sam and I. And that's it."

"Okay," he said slowly. "Where did you…come from?"

She shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"You don't know?" he asked, surprised.

"Well – " she broke off, sneaking a look at his face. No fear, just…curiosity. Huh. "Well, there was a crash," she said slowly. "In the 40s, somewhere in the States. But…beyond that, we have no idea."

"None at all?"

"No. Somebody found us wandering around downtown Toronto about twelve years ago. Sam and I were six, and Lizzie was four." She hugged herself, feeling the same chill that settled down upon her whenever she remembered those first few years. "They assigned us foster parents out here, and well…the rest is history. Sam got adopted almost right away, but Lizzie and I moved around a bit before we settled down here. Thank God it was close to Sam."

"Oh." He looked thoughtful. "So, you have no idea like, who you are, or why you're here?"

"No." She sighed. "But then again, what's so different about not knowing that? Nobody knows that." She shrugged, feeling awkward.

"Right." He chuckled. "That's…actually a really good point."

Their eyes met, and overcome with a strange sense of relief and pleasure, mirth rose up in her throat and bubbled over into laughter, her soft giggles joining Derek's deeper laugh.

"I'm sorry," he said, gasping. "This – this is so absurd. You – you're a fucking _alien._"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is absurd." She hopped up on the counter next to him. "But you know – you can't tell _anyone_, right? I mean, seriously." He turned to study her. "I'm basically putting my life – and my family's lives – in your hands."

He paused and seemed to be forming his words carefully. "You saved my life Saturday night," he said. "That bullet – it would've killed me." She was silent, not disputing the fact. "I figure…turnabout's fair play."

She nodded, wanting to cry all of a sudden. "Thank you," she said, voice wavering.

He nodded, clearing his throat. "So…you said you could do the mind meld with anyone?"

"…yeah."

"Could you do it with me?" He shifted, tilting his head again. "I mean, it's like – you healed me and I stole a memory from you or something. So it's only fair. I mean, if you want to."

She stared at him for a moment, slightly stunned. "Um," she said, coming back to herself. "It – it goes both ways."

He nodded, catching her eye. "Okay."

"Okay," she repeated, her voice in a whisper.

Biting her lip, she reached out one shaky hand and lightly touched the silver handprint that marred his torso, gasping slightly as a shock of electricity raced down her arm at the brief contact. She felt him tense up as well, and matching his gaze with hers, she carefully aligned her hand to the handprint until it perfectly matched up with the silver mark.

Closing her eyes, she let the connection snap open, letting her mind reach out and touch his. Doing this had always been a struggle for Casey, especially with someone like Lizzie who had enough mental defenses built up to keep out Professor X. But Derek's mind lay open and undefended, like a wide, cool path spreading out before her feet.

Then, a volt of electricity captured her in its grip and she gasped, arching into it, letting it take her away on a wave of images, both from her own life and from his. Derek at seven or eight, sitting in a hospital room with his dad, holding a newborn Marti, Casey at twelve, holding Lizzie's hand as they moved into the trailer in Kentwood Estates, Derek fighting with Sally over someone named…Patrick? Casey making the honor roll and celebrating with Lizzie and Sam, Derek listening to his parents fighting while trying to reassure his brother, Casey watching Derek in class, longing to reach out and make a connection more than anything else she'd ever wanted in the world. More and more images flashed behind her eyes until all she saw was a blur of color, a mishmash of her life and his until she couldn't tell them apart.

She finally wrenched her hand away from Derek's chest and broke the link, gasping for air. Shaking, she blindly let herself fall sideways, eyes clenched shut against the onslaught of information, and felt hands catch her, her cheek pressed against smooth skin.

She took deep breath after deep breath, waiting for the images to subside. She slowly came back to reality, head still spinning, only to realize that she was pressed up against Derek, her arms twined around his waist and her cheek pressed to his shoulder. His forehead was resting on her shoulder, his shoulders heaving as he breathed heavily himself.

Painfully aware that he was still shirtless, Casey scarcely dared to breathe as his breath slowly calmed, his hands slowly loosening their grip on her forearms. "Whoa," he said finally, words muffled slightly by her t-shirt.

"I know," she replied, just as softly. Neither one of them moved.

Or, at least, until the bathroom door opened.

"What the – " The math teacher, Mr. Krohn struggled the open the door against the doorstop that Casey had wedged beneath it. Frowning, he looked up just in time to see Derek and Casey break apart, looking decidedly guilty.

Scrambling for his shirt, Derek covered up the handprint hastily, hopping off the counter. "Mr. Krohn! Just the man I was hoping to see. I lost my day planner, see, and I forgot what the page numbers were for Friday's assignment." He grinned, gesturing to his temple. "I had a bit of a head injury over the weekend, so it seems to have slipped my mind."

Mr. Krohn, arms crossed, was stone faced. "Why don't I fill you in on that on the way to the principal's office?" He looked to Casey, who was trying her best to become invisible. "_Both_ of you."

--

Derek shut his door firmly and collapsed against it with a sigh, feeling the beginnings of a migraine forming behind his temples. No matter how he and Casey had tried to deny it, neither the principal nor his parents would believe that what they'd been doing in the bathroom had been innocent.

_Of course, I did have my shirt off. And we were hugging. Sorta._

Although they'd gotten off pretty easily, they'd both still been suspended for the rest of the day, with detention for the rest of the week for their 'inappropriate behavior.' Considering his past track record, Derek figured he should be pretty lucky that that was the extent of the punishment.

But since the incident as a whole had only confirmed his mother's suspicions that he was dealing with some kind of deep-set trauma from the robbery, he couldn't really bring himself to feel very grateful. His dad had managed to keep Abby from sending him straight to a shrink's office, but no doubt they fighting about it at that very moment.

And sure enough, Derek could hear the faint strain of angry voices from the first floor – they'd stopped trying to hide their fights from him a while back. He closed his eyes tiredly, trying to block it out.

Running the past few hours over in his mind, he tried to make sense of all the new information that had suddenly been introduced in such a short time. Casey was an alien. Aliens were real. And they…healed people. And possibly other things.

There were so many things to think about, so many possibilities that would only inevitably freak him out that he forced the issue out of his head, trying to distance himself from it. He shut his eyes and took a breath, trying to look at it from an unbiased, logical perspective, like his mom was always telling him to do.

It wasn't Casey's fault she was different, right? It was just like somebody who happened to be born black, or Jewish or Muslim. He couldn't hold a grudge because of who she was.

And it wasn't like she was…mean, or something. He was pretty sure she wasn't planning to take over the world, at any rate. He didn't know her that well, but – well, wait. He did know her, sorta. The little girl with the stuffed bear popped into his head again and his eyes flew open. She'd looked like Marti when she was little, sorta.

But it was more than just the images, really, it was the emotions that'd come with them. He'd felt lonely for her, scared and angry and delighted and insecure with every flash of memory she'd given him. And her face, when she'd looked up at him. He felt short of breath again, just at the memory, the pull of the tide threatening to tug him under.

The trill of his cell phone pierced the silence and Derek rolled his eyes, flipping it open and bringing it to his ear. "Ralph, Hilary Duff sucks and I'm changing your ring tone."

"Dude, don't hate."

"Is there something you wanted?"

"Um, not really. Is there something you wanted?" Ralph tried unsuccessfully to mask the laughter threatening to break free, and his guffaws stuttered through the phone line.

Derek sighed. "Okay, what."

"Like you don't know what."

"Why don't we pretend that I don't?"

"Man!" Ralph laughed loudly. "You and that chick! The one from your Chemistry class?" He whistled. "She's cute. When did you dump Sally, though? Gotta say, about time."

"What?" Something cold dropped into Derek's stomach. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you and Casey McDonald." Ralph laughed again. "I heard you got caught in the teacher's lounge. That's bold, man, but I respect it."

"I did _not_ – who the hell did you hear that from?"

"Tinker," Ralph replied. "And Emily Davis, too."

"Oh, _great._" Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. If Emily Davis knew, then _everyone_ knew. "Ralph, nothing happened."

"Hey, you don't have to lie to me, man," Ralph said brightly. "How far'd you get? I heard third base, but – "

"I didn't get anywhere!" Derek felt the earlier frustration he'd felt in the principal's office roaring back. "We're just friends, and we were just talking. And it was the bathroom, not the teacher's lounge, for God's sake."

"Riiiiight," Ralph drawled, then fell silent.

"Ralph. Are you winking?"

"Nooooo," Ralph replied knowingly.

"Ralph – " Derek broke off and shut his cell phone with a snap, glaring at it accusingly. When the mechanical sounds of Hilary Duff reached his ears again, he huffed and threw it across the room.

"Yeah, you're right. That song totally sucks."

Derek yelped and turned around quickly, effectively throwing himself off the bed and onto the floor. "What the fu – "

Lizzie McDonald was leaning calmly against his dresser, pinning him with a look powerful enough to peel paint. "Smooth."

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Derek backed up against his desk, looking at Lizzie as if she'd grown a second head. "How did you get in?"

"How do you think?" Lizzie asked dryly. "I mean, Casey gave you our entire history, didn't she?" Derek's mouth opened and closed, no sound escaping. Sighing, she straightened up and melted into nothing before his very eyes, leaving him staring dumbly at his dresser. "Ta da," came her deadpan voice, echoing from the very spot that she _wasn't_ standing.

"Holy shit," Derek replied.

Shimmering back into existence, Lizzie crossed her arms. "So let's be real for a second."

Derek swallowed and tried not to freak out. "Um. Okay."

"Here's the thing. This is our lives that are at stake here, not yours," she said firmly. "And you can be as freaked out as you want, but I need to know that you're not going to ruin everything we've worked for just because you're a little wigged." She raised an eyebrow expectantly. "So, are you?"

Derek paused. "Am I what?"

"Going to _ruin_ our freaking _lives,_ you _idiot,_" Lizzie snapped. "This isn't a hockey game, sport. This is serious."

"I know," Derek shot back, snapped out of his semi-daze by her anger. "I was the one who got _shot,_ in case you didn't know."

"Oh, I know," Lizzie said, almost resignedly. "Which is what started this whole mess in the first place. Who robs a café, anyway?"

"I…wouldn't know." Derek frowned. "Look, I'm not going to…out you, or whatever. Okay?"

Lizzie looked unimpressed. "Oh, yeah. That's really reassuring."

"What do you want from me, then?" Derek asked. "Sorry if I'm not more eloquent, I just had my entire world turned upside down this weekend. But I'll be sure to write a speech for the next time I see you."

"Oh yeah. And that's the other thing." Lizzie stepped forward and her expression turned menacing. "If you hurt my sister, I will kill you."

Derek stared at her incredulously for a second. "Are you serious? Yeah, okay. That's great. Thanks for that."

Lizzie huffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, what am I gonna do, invisible you to death? That's not what I meant." She glared at him. "Casey's really nice, okay? She believes the best in people, and if you do something to change that, I will hunt you down and inflict the kind of harm that only a very angry soccer sister can achieve."

"Oh." Derek blinked. "_Oh._ No, we weren't – "

"I know you weren't. But still."

A loud rapping of knuckles on Derek's door saved him from having to respond. "Derek?"

"It's my dad." Derek waved his arms at Lizzie frantically. "Do your thing again. At this rate he'll probably think I'm sleeping with you, too."

"Ew." Lizzie wrinkled her nose and disappeared.

Doing a slight double take, Derek shook his head and swung the door open, revealing a less-than-pleased George. "Derek."

"Dad." Derek scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to imitate his father's expression.

"Don't start." A slight twitch of his lips gave him away. "Sally's here. You get ten minutes. And the Sheriff wants to see you at the station in a half an hour."

Derek felt a nasty jolt. "What? Why?"

"To follow up on Saturday night? I guess." George shrugged and pointed a finger at Derek. "The door stays open."

Derek saluted. "Sir."

George shook his head. "Runt."

"Hey, now. Too far." Derek let out a grin, which dimmed slightly when a less-than-pleased Sally appeared from around the corner. "Hey, Sal," he said warily. "What's up?"

"'What's up'?" she hissed. "Is that all you can say to me?"

"Uh, what's up, sweetheart?"

Sally emitted a sound not unlike a growl and shoved him viciously, propelling him backwards into his room. "Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to hear from a freaking _freshman_ that your boyfriend is apparently cheating on you?"

"What?" Derek blinked. "Sally – "

"I knew you were lying when you told me you didn't know her. I should've dumped you then." Sally started pacing the length of his room angrily. "I can't believe I fell for it. I can't believe I _slept_ with you!"

"Whoa, whoa." Derek held up his hands, intensely aware that an invisible Lizzie was somewhere in the room, watching the proceedings. "Slow down. Nothing happened with Casey, okay? I swear."

"Oh, right. Like I'm supposed to believe that?" Sally scoffed. "Because you're so freaking trustworthy."

"Hey," Derek said, a bit wounded. "When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me? Just because you're paranoid about every girl I've ever talked to – "

"Paranoid for a good reason, obviously!" Sally glared at him. "So how long has this been going on? Were you just stringing us both along, waiting for one of us to do the dirty work and dump you?"

"This is ridiculous." Derek turned away, rifling through his desk as an excuse not to look at her. "I need to leave soon."

"What, you're not even going to explain yourself?"

"You've obviously made up your mind about what happened. Why should I?" Anger that'd been festering for months suddenly boiled over and he whirled around, hands clenched. "I'm sorry I don't fit into the picture you've got in your head, _sweetheart_, but you know what? I'm really sick and tired of trying. I'm done."

"Are – " Sally's eyes widened. "Are _you_ breaking up with _me?_"

Derek didn't pause. "Yeah. I am."

Sally opened her mouth but Derek grabbed his jacket before the storm could erupt. "I've gotta go," he said shortly, leaving her gaping in the middle of his room. Jogging downstairs, he practically flew past George and Marti in the living room, shoving his feet in his shoes with jerky movements. "I'm going down to the station."

"They don't need you there until – "

"I'm going now." He didn't wait for an answer, pushing out the front door and slamming it for good measure.

As he ducked into the front seat of his car, he caught sight of a slight shimmer in the air behind his right shoulder and remembered Lizzie with a jolt. Sighing, he opened the backseat wordlessly, watching as a phantom gust of air ruffled his lapels as the door swung shut on its own.

As he pulled out of the driveway, hands clenched on the steering wheel, he could see the shimmer in the rearview mirror, undetectable unless one was looking for it, and the slight sound of her breath and the rustle of her clothes as she moved. He relaxed slightly, almost…comforted.

Huh.

--


End file.
